


WELL MET BY BLOOD

by wellmet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: AU alpha/omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 16:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14168457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellmet/pseuds/wellmet
Summary: A alpha/omega au where a meeting in an alley becomes a relationship





	1. Chapter 1

WELL MET BY BLOOD  
Meretseger 2015

Chapter 1

 

James Bond was drunk. Not that anybody would notice he was drunk, unless they were equipped with the latest in police breath testing kits. Bond had just finished an assignment for MI6 and he was doing what he usually did when he had finished protecting queen and country - getting drunk. Tomorrow he'd make a few phone calls and find someone to share his bed with for a few days. He had spent the late afternoon and early evening in a bar not too far from his flat so he could walk home - any employee of the British Secret Service caught drink driving faced disciplinary action the first time: There was no second time; you were no longer employed by MI6 if you were that stupid. So Bond was walking home and planning to empty at least one of the bottles of scotch he had at home. He vaguely registered the sound of fire engine sirens somewhere close and the faint scent of burning in the air but ignored both scent and sound. Saving the infrastructure of London was not his job. He was kept busy enough saving the United Kingdom.

He was passing an laneway when he heard the cries of pain. He stopped, his brain not at all fogged by an amount of alcohol that would have had any other man in danger of passing out. It sounded like an animal in pain but as he listened he realised it was a person not an animal. Then he recognised it - the disturbing, alcohol dispersing sound of an omega in trouble. Alpha instincts and a touch of compassion he would never recognise kicked in and he turned into the darkness. Only a little way into the cold dark he saw someone huddled against the grimy brick wall and smelt blood. He was 007, with a license to kill and he knew the smell of blood too well.

Kneeling, ignoring the dampness marring the soft grey wool if his bespoke tailoring, Bond touched the face of the person - a young man he realised, "can I help? What's wrong?" What was a young, attractive omega doing out here alone and bleeding. Omegas were more liberated these days, now that they had the pill, but even so ...

"I was shot." The words were gasped out. "I think I'm in labour and it's too soon ..."

"I'll call an ambulance." Bond took out his mobile phone and dialled 999 and explained the need for an ambulance - now! He turned his attention back to the young man who was shivering with cold and pain. Why was he naked under just a blanket? "They will be here soon." Knowing that the omega needed to be diverted from his suffering he asked, "what's your name?"

"Felix." There was something that could have been a groan or an attempt to laugh. "But I don't feel lucky." 

Bond was impressed. Puns from someone bleeding to death! "I'm James, can you tell me what happened to you?" The paramedics would need all the details he could give them and there was something about this young man's bravery that impressed him.

"I was being held captive by Roger Merchant's son, Stephen. It's his pup ... There was a raid, bullets everywhere. Stephen came and made me get up, he didn't even give me time to get dressed." The words were broken by a loud groan and Bond watched as the swollen belly pulsed and the smell of blood deepened. A too thin hand tightened around one of James' own broader hands and Bond tightened his fingers in response. Where was that damned ambulance! "We ran for the back door but some one must have seen us. Stephen was shot but he told me to run and then I heard two more shots and I looked back and he was down and so was another man. Then there was another shot as I ran away and I felt something tear through me but I ran into the dark and ..."

Bond saw the flashing lights of the ambulance and then people carrying boxes of helpful stuff. "They're here," he said, standing up and away as the paramedics dropped to their knees. A large torch was shoved into his hand. "Hold this, the cops are bringing lights."

"He was shot." Really there was no need for more. Bond balanced the torch in his left hand, the fingers weren't much use at the moment but he bent them enough to hold the light steady and ignored the pain. He was practiced at that, too.

Gentle voices spoke and Felix answered and Bond was holding an IV bag as well as the torch when a uniformed officer arrived with a large light on a stand that trailed flex. Bond could see that the omega - Felix - was pale, his face drawn with pain, sweat running down his face, tears leaving trails that shone gold in the light from the lamp. 

It seemed like hours before Felix was loaded onto a gurney and rushed away. "Where are you taking him?" Bond asked. 

"Barts!" And then they were gone and the police were waiting to ask questions. 

"I was walking past when I heard a noise from the alleyway. I thought it was an animal then I realised it was an omega in pain. I went to him, he told me he was in premature labour and I called for an ambulance. He told me his name was Felix." He decided not to say anything about being kidnapped by the most notorious gang in Central London. He wasn't sure why he said nothing about the kidnapping but his instincts told him to keep the information to himself so he did. He could work out why later

"And your name and address, sir?" The officer's pen was poised over the little black notebook that was standard Metropolitan Police issue, if he smelt alcohol on Bond's breath he didn't say anything but he did notice the bandage wrapped around Bond's left fingers but he didn't say anything about that either. 

"Bond, James Bond." He gave his mobile phone number and address and then was allowed to continue on his way home. The flat was cold, he'd been in the Middle East for two weeks and the heating had been turned off while he was away. James went to the cupboard that held the bottles of scotch he always kept there for his returns from missions and took one out. He sat down on the long couch and poured himself a generous glassful and drank it quickly. And another. He drank the third glassful slowly, leaning back against the soft leather upholstery. He was starting to relax, to come down from the adrenalin high that made him so good at his job. A few more and he'd be able to sleep. 

When the glass was empty Bond looked at the bottle, deciding there was enough left to get him as drunk as he needed to be but he didn't pour any of the liquor out he just sat back again, staring at the ceiling. Why had Felix been kidnapped? For sex? For breeding? Some people still thought that omegas should stay at home, cook and look after their cubs and let their alpha be the boss. Not everybody thought that Omega Liberation was a good idea. But the birth control pill that had made it possible for beta women to decide when to have babies had been found to work for omegas as well. It not only limited their fertility but as long as they took it they didn't go on heat. So now they could work and study and become more than baby making machines ruled by their hormones. Most still wanted cubs and alphas and homes but they had the choice now. There were some who protested loudly and in some countries omegas weren't allowed the pill but Omega Liberation was spreading despite the diatribes of religious and secular rulers. 

James put his glass down on the coffee table and went to bed. He slept lightly, as he always did the first night back home, even drunk his instincts were on high alert. He woke at ten, so used to alcohol he didn't have a hangover. He lingered in the shower, washing off the feeling of desert sand and death. When he was clean he turned the hot tap and stood under the scalding water for as long as he could, before turning off the hot water and letting the cold finish the ritual of washing away the things he had done, the men he had killed, the woman he had seduced and abandoned to her fate. He was James Bond, 007, an agent of the British Secret Service with a licence to kill and he did what he needed to. 

Pulling off the plastic bag that had kept his bandages dry Bond dried himself on the thick soft towels from the heated towel rack and wrapped a dry one around his hips. The mirror over the sink was steamed-smudged and he wiped it off as he ran hot water into the sink. He always used a cut-throat razor, enjoying the smooth sharpness of the steel, the smoothness of his skin in its wake. He rinsed the remains of the soap off his face, combed his hair and went to dress. There wasn't any food in his refrigerator, the cleaners came in as usual and emptied it when he went on a mission, so he decided to go out for brunch, walk around the city for a while and then find a willing body to complete his return to the light alertness he kept for when he was in his homeland. But there was coffee ready for the coffee machine and he made a cup, drinking it black and strong as he listened to the morning news. Apart from the usual politicians scoring points off each other and an earthquake in Nepal the only thing of interest was a warehouse fire close to where he had found Felix. As he sipped Bond wondered if there was any connection.

Dressed in his favourite light grey James went down to the garage and ran his hand over the smooth warm metal of his Aston Martin but driving such a powerful car in London's traffic was frustrating and finding a safe place to park it no less irritating, so James left the garage and walked to his favourite cafe. Their coffee was always hot and strong, their eggs free range and their bacon from happy fat pink porkers.

Content and well fed Bond paid for his breakfast and strolled out to look over the city he loved. There were more beautiful cities than London but none more alive with history and interest. When James had left home the day was cool but sunny but as he walked clouds gathered and the light turned grey. Soon it would start raining, light rain maybe, but the kind that soaked through the warmest wool suiting. So James hailed a taxi and directed the driver to Bart's. Saint Bartholomew's Hospital had been founded in 1123 by a man called Rohere in payment of a vow made whilst on pilgrimage. None of the original buildings remained, of course, but people around the world knew it as the place where Sherlock Holmes' friend Dr John Watson had studied. 

"Maternity?" the driver asked, recognising an alpha.

Bond began to direct the man to the general wards but Felix had been pregnant so he nodded. "Omega Maternity." Omega 'plumbing' was even more complicated than the beta or alpha female design but it was still all about babies so the two were next to each other. Not sure why he was going to visit the omega James watched the rain start to fall and the streets blossom with umbrellas. This being the City most of them were black.

When the cabbie stopped at the Maternity Section of Bart's James paid him and entered the quiet, controlled chaos that was any modern hospital. The receptionist in the omega department wasn't impressed, even when Bond turned on the charm. "I'm sorry, sir," she said for the third time, "I can't discuss a patient's details with anyone who is not family."

"All I want to know is if he's alright," James repeated. "Look, I called the ambulance last night when I found him bleeding to death. I would like to know if he's still alive!"

The receptionist's attitude changed. "Are you James?" When Bond nodded she picked up a telephone and dialled a number. While she waited for an answer she said, "Felix has been asking for you. He hasn't any family and Dr Hudderfield thinks you can help." When the 'phone was answered she informed the doctor that "James was wanting to see Felix." When she broke the connection she looked at Bond and smiled. "Felix is in room 23 and the doctor will be with you as soon as possible.

Having got what he wanted James smiled his smoothest smile and headed off in the direction the woman had indicated. Signs pointed him down a long corridor to the last room on the left. Not bothering to knock he entered the dimly lit room. Felix, looking small and frail, lay curled on his side under a light blanket. He'd tried to pull on edge of his cover over his head in a classic omega nesting need but the blanket was tucked too tightly and instead he was lying with one arm over his eyes and head. As James' eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw two blankets stacked neatly on the end of the bed. Obviously somebody had been told to provide extra blankets for nesting and then left them out of reach. One corner of the top blanket was pulled up, as if Felix had tried to pull it up but lacked the strength. James had not had a lot to do with omegas but he remembered enough of biology lessons from school so he lifted a blanket and moved to stand where Felix could see him.

"Would you like a blanket to nest in?" he asked, keeping his voice low. 

"James?" green eyes, dulled by drugs and misery blinked up. "You came." A thin hand, hooked up to an IV moved towards the blanket and James draped it over Felix's head but didn't cover his face as it was obvious the young omega wanted to be able to see him.

"I wanted to know how you were," Bond answered, putting his hand into the one that reached through the safety bars on the bed. "They said you were asking for me?" Wanting to know why Felix had asked for him.

"I lost my cub."

"Oh, luv, I'm so sorry." Bond had never wanted a family, never felt the need to leave hostages to fortune, but he supposed most people did and so he said what was expected. "Can you tell me how you got kidnapped and why?" The police would no doubt be around asking questions and he wanted to know what kind of trouble Felix could be in.

"I'm a hacker, a good one." There was a note of pride in the frail voice. "I was happy, just me and my computer." The green eyes closed and opened again, tears gathering on the lower lid. "I didn't want cubs or an alpha. I just wanted to do what I enjoyed. I didn't do any harm - I had a job at a computer shop - I just got into supposedly secure sites and left messages. 'Felix says to fix your security.' and what to do." 

"And Merchant found out about you?" 

Felix nodded. "I don't know how but he sent his goons around to my flat and they pulled me out to a car and to a big, cold warehouse. And before you ask the locals knew who had taken me and nobody was going to risk their lives for me." An attempt at a laugh. "My landlord packed up my stuff so Roger could collect it." Lips, too pale and thin, sneered and Bond knew the omega would never have given in to the bullies. Felix was a brave man and Bond's respect grew. 

Felix fell silent, his eyes closing and James pulled the blanket over to cover his eyes. He'd never bothered to wonder why unhappy omegas covered their heads and eyes, it was just something they did, but it seemed to be a dangerous thing to do in a troubled situation. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable with the thought that the lighter muscled, more vulnerable omegas had never had any other option but to retreat and endure. 

A slight noise at the door and Bond turned, his hand going to a gun he wasn't carrying. He stayed close to the omega, an alpha protecting. The man who came into the room was young, with short blond hair and grey eyes. He was as tall as Bond but of a heavier build that wasn't all muscle. He wore light blue scrubs. "Are you James? I'm Doctor Hudderfield."

"Bond, James, Bond." The doctor's hand was dry and smooth but strong. 

"I think we should talk outside," Huddersfield suggested and they stepped out into the hallway. "I'm glad you came. Felix was asking for you." He took a deep breath. "He lost his cub and I'm not sure he will ever be able to carry another to term." He nodded when Bond swore. "We did a scan to see where the bullet was and it had killed the foetus. We repaired what we could and now we have to wait and see. "

Bond wondered why the doctor was giving him information that should have been kept confidential but he only asked, "does he know?"

Huddersfield shook his head. "That's why I'm glad you're here. I asked and he has no family and he'll need someone."

James shook his head. He wasn't a caregiver, he was 007, a spy with a licence to kill. Certainly not the kind of man to comfort a traumatised omega. "He's not my omega and I certainly don't have any interest in having one." 

"Well, I think you do now," the doctor seemed unfazed by Bond's rejection. He looked down at James' left hand. "And if I'm any judge of injuries - and since I work in a hospital in a big city I am - you won't be doing much but sitting around waiting for bones to heal for six to eight weeks." Huddersfield put a hand on Bond's shoulder. "Look, I understand you not wanting to get involved but Felix is in a bad place and you are the only person he can look to for comfort. Offer what you can and when he's better withdraw. But right now he needs an alpha's support and protection. The police were around earlier, wanting to ask questions. I've put the off for a while but they'll be back."

The doctor's appeal to his alpha instincts worked and James nodded. "Okay, I'll do what I can. For now."

"That's all I ask," Hudderfield answered, smiling with relief. "I need to talk to him. He's upset and when I tell him he might be too damaged to have pups he's going to need you close."

Felix understood what the doctor was telling him but the pain killers he was being given clouded his mind and it took a while for the words to have any real meaning. He hadn't wanted cubs but he might have one day. "I understand. doctor." He looked up at James who hovered by the doctor. His friend seemed to understand and he moved closer and took the hand Felix held out to him. When the doctor had left them alone James let down the safety bars on the side of the bed and sat down close enough for Felix to feel the warmth of his body through the hospital blankets. "Is there anything I can do?" He felt completely out of his depth as a comforter. 

"I never worried about having an alpha," Felix said, closing his eyes. not wanting to see anything but darkness. "But one day I might have. Now I don't have that option." He had lost something he hadn't know he might want and it made him feel sad and alone. For ever.

"Why not?" James asked. "Not all alphas want cubs." 

"They don't?" Felix moved so he could see James better and something pulled inside very painfully. His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't stop the moan of pain.

"Shh," James said softly, running a soothing hand over the omega's head. "I never wanted children and I can't anyway, even if I changed my mind."

"You can't?" Felix had never heard of a sterile alpha. "Why?"

"An accident," Bond answered. It hadn't been an accident but torture. Very painful torture. He had been stripped naked, made to sit in a chair with a hole cut in the seat and then whipped on his balls. The pain had torn through him like nothing he had ever felt before, worse than a gunshot, worse even than a burn. He had recovered, eventually, but the little tubes that moved sperm around in his testicles were too damaged to repair. 

"Ouch," Felix said. James had given him something to think about and he pulled his blanket up. "Will you come and visit me again?" He didn't feel so alone when James was with him.

"Tomorrow," James promised. He leant down and kissed the soft dark hair. "I'll bring flowers."

Felix let himself succumb to the drugs dulling his pain and his thoughts and he smiled a little as he drifted off to sleep. James made sure the omega was properly covered with both the blankets left for him to nest in and let himself quietly out of the room. 

The rain was falling heavily when James left the hospital so he hailed a taxi and asked to be taken to the bookshop he generally favoured. He had found an interest in military history and Small & Wilcox specialised in selling books by small presses on the subject, though they did stock anything they thought might interest their clients from the bigger, more popular producers. 

S & W Military Books was a small shop down a narrow lane off Pall Mall. Their window display area was limited and they always tied the books in the window to the anniversary of a battle closest to the current date. Bond stopped to look over the display but saw nothing that interested him particularly but entered the shop, knowing that he was sure to find something to read. If he was going to be keeping Felix company in hospital he would need something to keep him from boredom. Bored double 0's could be dangerous.

James headed for the 'Latest In' shelf and looked over the books on display. A title, 'The Battle That Stopped Rome' caught his eye. It was a regular sized paperback and he picked it up, wondering what it could be about since the Roman army was just about unstoppable in its day. The book detailed the loss of the Roman garrisons in Germany to a coalition of tribes who lead the legionaries into a trap laid in the Tutenburg Forest in a manner that prevented the Roman's from forming a coherent defence. Bond tucked a copy of the book under his arm and studied the rest of the books on the shelf. ((This book is real, I have a copy.))

A pleasant hour later James had a small pile of books, one of which described the near-miss during the Cold War when the missile defence computer system in the United States falsely warned of incoming ICBMs due to a failure in a small, inexpensive component of the system. He thought Felix might find it interesting due to his interest in computers. He left the bookshop and went to find somewhere to eat lunch.

He spent the afternoon reading, drinking coffee and relaxing. The rain got heavier as the day ended and he lit the gas fire and settled in with take away Indian and his books. Before settling down to read he had phoned HQ and asked for information on the raid on the warehouse where Felix had been kept. The fire he had noticed before finding the injured omega had been in the same warehouse. The building had been deliberately torched and there was nothing left but bits of charred bodies, melted and unidentifiable bits of plastic and bricks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

"All the time in the world" is a reference to OHMSS. I gave Felix his name in the hope that it continues the style of names used in the Bond series.

James, as promised, brought flowers for the omega when he visited the next morning. The flower shop in the main foyer of St Bart's catered for all kinds of patients and he decided on a plain glass vase and a bunch of sunflowers. Being James Bond he wasn't embarrassed by carrying flowers or the knowing smiles of other visitors. Let them think he was an alpha taking flowers to his omega and new cub. 

Felix was still pale and sleepy but he smiled when James arrived. "You know," he said after watching his friend place the flowers where he could see them. "I never bothered much about plants until I was shut up in that warehouse. I haven't seen a tree or grass in far too long."

"When you're feeling better I'll take you out into the hospital garden," Bond promised. He looked over at the window. "If it isn't raining." He sat down on the chair provided. "How are you feeling?"

"Fuzzy," Felix admitted. "I'm still being drugged up." He was lying on his back, propped up against his pillows. "Dr Hudderfield told me that the police want to talk to me. He put them off, said I was too ill but I'll have to talk to them. I suppose I'll have to go to prison for breaking into the Met's computer system."

"No, no," Bond reassured the frightened man. "I found out yesterday that the warehouse was totally destroyed. I have contacts in the police and they told me that they weren't going to investigate a pile of smoking ruins." The information passed on by MI6 to Bond was that the Metropolitan Police weren't going to worry about warfare between criminal gangs until it effected civilians. "When they ask just tell them you were captured because you were an omega and Stephen wanted you for sex. Can they trace you through the hacking?"

Felix shook his head and smiled a little. "No, I am too good for that!" The smile grew. "Stephen wanted me to change the files on his family's gang so that if they were arrested their records wouldn't come up. I did what they asked and showed them the fake identities I'd set up that showed that they had nothing more than parking tickets on their records. What I didn't tell them was that the changes I'd made were good for ten days and then the records went back to the truth!"

James laughed. The British Secret Service was always looking for talented people and he wondered if they could use a man like Felix. That he had broken the law would be less important than his talents. For now he said nothing but he would think about the idea later. "Just look pale and interesting and they won't bother you too much."

Felix was still too weak for James to stay long but he promised to come back tomorrow. He sat with the omega until he fell asleep and then let himself out of the room. 

James visited every day and watched as Felix recovered from the trauma he had suffered and he was there when the police asked their questions about the raid on the warehouse and why Felix had been there. He let the detective assume that he was Felix's alpha and she went away satisfied with his answers. It was then that he found out that the omega's last name was Meeting. 

"That's why my mother named me Felix," the omega said, relaxed now that his ordeal at the hands of the Met was over. "She said that felix means not only luck but blest in Latin. She told me when I had my first heat that one day I would meet an alpha who would love and cherish me because I was his bonded mate and bearer of his cubs and love and respect me because I was a good person."

Bond had once cherished such thoughts for himself. But the death of his wife had changed all that and now he was a member of the British Secret Service with a licence to kill. One day, soon perhaps, Felix would find his alpha and then their friendship would have to end. But until then they had all the time in the world. 

Bond fell into a routine of sorts. He visited his friend late in the morning, bringing lunch from various restaurants. He knew about hospital food and Felix needed to build up some body mass. The omega would always be slender but he was too thin and his body needed good food so it could repair itself properly. James knew it was the alpha in him that wanted to feed the omega. After lunch he went to MI6 HQ and used the gym. He needed to stay at the peak of fitness and he couldn't let himself loose condition just because he had broken fingers. He also spent time at the firing range, annoying the Quartermaster. Then he would go home, cook a simple meal and spend the night reading and drinking a lot less scotch than he realised. 

He kept his promise to take Felix out into the garden as soon as the omega was able to walk up and down the hallway outside his room. A nurse provided a wheel chair and they went downstairs and out into the warm sunshine. The garden was not big but it was laid out to look bigger than it actually was. Felix lay back in his chair and closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the sun. 

When the garden was in shadow and growing cooler James got up to take his friend back to his room but Felix shook his head. "Can I talk to you? It's important." When James nodded and sat down again the omega looked around to make sure they were alone. "It's about money."

James had wondered what was wrong but money he hadn't thought of. It was something he never had to worry about. He had inherited plenty of money from his parents and MI6 paid him very well to kill for Queen and Country. He nodded, not saying anything. 

Felix looked down at his intertwined fingers, his pale cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Money was something an English gentleman never talked about. "I was put in a private room here because I'd lost my cub and they didn't want to put me in with all the omegas with cubs. But if I don't pay something off my costs they'll put me in a ward and I don't want to have to be with others." He looked up. "I can pay you back as soon as I get access to a proper computer system but ..."

Bond touched the trembling fingers. "It's not a problem, luv. I'll go and pay for you to keep your room for as long as you need it. We can talk about payment later." Felix let out a sigh of relief and James asked, "do you need some money now? For magazines or books?"

"Yes, please," the omega answered shyly. "Thank you, James."

"It's my pleasure," James reassured the younger man. He got up, relieved that conversation was over. "Why don't we go and get some lunch in the cafe and then go to the gift shop and see what magazines they have." And if they didn't have the ones Felix wanted he'd go out and get them. Before they left the garden he took a pile of notes out of his wallet and gave them to Felix. "If you want more let me know." He didn't care if he was repaid - it was only money and he had nothing else better to spend it on.

Felix poured Earl Grey tea into his cup and leant over to smell the bergamot in the steam. "A hot cup of tea! At last!"

Bond chuckled. "I've always wondered why they always serve tea half cold in hospitals." How they expected any Englishman to get better on half cold tea was one of the deeper mysteries of the National Health Service.

The gift shop had a huge collection of magazines and, wisely, aisles wide enough for wheelchairs. James pushed Felix past 'Home Improvements' and 'Cooking' and didn't even glance at 'Cars' and 'Body Building'. He stopped at 'Science and the Environment' and Felix picked up a National Geographic and New Scientist. The next stop was 'Computers' - three magazines here - and then 'media' and the omega made a happy sort of yelping noise and picked up Dr Who and Empire. 

By the time they got back to his room Felix was looking tired. "Bed or chair?" James asked as he helped the omega out of the wheelchair.

"Chair," Felix answered. "It's comfortable enough if I fall asleep." 

Bond made sure his friend was warmly covered with a hospital blanket over his lap. "I'll be later tomorrow I have to go and have an x-ray to see if my fingers are repaired."

Felix nodded and looked at Bond's left hand. "How did you break them?" Now he was feeling better he had noticed the bandages on his friend's hand but he had been hesitant to mention them until James brought up the subject.

Bond had been expecting to be asked about his fingers now that the omega was more alert. If he said it was an accident the younger man would start thinking he was accident prone. The damage was no accident, of course, no more than the damage to his testicles had been. Despite knowing that information taken under torture was unreliable he always seemed to run into villains who preferred old fashioned torture to more reliable drugs. It was hard on his body but protected his secrets. 

Bond had decided to go with a - very simplified - version of the truth. "I was carrying a brief case of very sensitive commercial information for the company I work for and one of our rivals tried to take it from me. He hit my hand with a walking stick." James held up his hand. "I let go, of course, but I managed to push the self-destruct button." 

"Why were you carrying hard copies," Felix, the computer nerd, asked. 

Bond had not thought of that objection so he just shrugged. "Orders." 

Felix didn't look convinced but he didn't ask any more questions. He yawned and smiled. "Sleepy," he said. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," Bond bent down and kissed dark hair that was soft under his lips but smelt of harsh hospital shampoo and soap. At the door he turned to look at the omega, now asleep, his hands resting on the colourful covers of his magazines. His face softened, uncharacteristically, for a moment and then his eyes brightened. His friend was still wearing a hospital gown and covered by one of those white too thin hospital blankets. He had some shopping to do.

The clerk at the upmarket men's wear emporium smiled as he packed plastic carrier bags with the clothes Bond had selected. It was obvious from the sizes that his customer was buying for his omega - who else would an alpha buy for? He approved of an alpha getting the best for his partner; it showed a caring attitude and he was a closet romantic. Bond paid with his platinum card and went back to his car and put the bags in the boot. He still had a lap rug to buy. He'd let Felix pay for the clothes but the rug was going to be a gift. He headed for a travel goods shop but on the way he passed a shop selling bed linen and he saw something in the window that made his stop and smile. Again.

James put the TARDIS quilt on the counter and took out his credit card. "Can you gift wrap this?" Unfortunately the only paper they had for gift wraps had teddy bears on it so Bond opted for heavy paper bag with the shop's logo. 

Bond stopped at his laundry service and dropped in the clothes to be washed and ironed and packed into a small suitcase ready for collection later. He was feeling restless and his car needed a long drive so he left London on the M1 and drove until he was tired and ready for dinner. It was late when he put the Aston Martin away and he needed a drink, since he'd had to severely curtail his alcohol intake - random breath tests had a lot to answer for. 

MI6 Medical was wary of 007; he was impatient, a reluctant patient and over indulged in alchahol, pain killers and stimulants and hated taking time off to heal or to recover from the gruelling life of a double 0 agent. He had cheated death and 'died' so many times that they never bothered to close his file - and wouldn't until they actually saw the body. 

The orthopaedic surgeon studied the latest x-rays of 007's left hand before saying, "it looks like the breaks have healed. We'll take the bandages off, I think, and you can start physiotherapy next week."   
Bond, who was sick of only having only limited mobility in his left fingers nodded. "What are those lines where the breaks were?" He needed two good hands to do his job, if there was going to be a continuing weakness it could jeopardise his future as a double 0 agent. 

"Not signs of any weakness in the bone," the doctor answered, understanding his patient's worry. Bond had been unusually patient and he wanted him to stay co-operative if possible. "Any trauma to bone results in stress lines. If in fifty years time we need to identify you if we x-ray your hand those lines will be exactly the same as they are now." When 007 merely nodded he went on, before 007 start to ask questions about how soon he could go back into the field. "I have made an appointment for you with the physiotherapist in half an hour." He took a deep breath, knowing 007 would not be happy with further delays. "I need to warn you that it will be a couple of months - at least - before your hand is back to the strength it had before the breaks. The bone have` healed but there was also tendon damage. The nurse will take the bandages off and direct you to physiotherapy."

The physiotherapist assigned to treating 007 was a little apprehensive. The man was known to be both impatient and seductive. Tending to double 0 agents was done on a strictly 'next in line to be stressed' basis and it was her turn. She took a deep breath and motioned 007 to a seat by the treatment table. 

"How do your fingers feel?" she asked, running her hands over the scared, calloused fingers and palm of the offered hand.

"Wonderful," Bond smiled at her at his most seductive. "Your touch is ... stimulating." He sobered. "They feel like they are fat and they don't seem to bend right." He wasn't used to his body not functioning as he demanded it to.

"That's completely natural," the physiotherapist answered blushing as strong warm fingers curled around her hand. "I notice you don't seem to be having much trouble bending them."

007 was actually in considerable pain, forcing his fingers to bend despite the stiffness, but his smile was predatory and no sign of the pain showed in his eyes or his expression. Slowly he uncurled his fingers and put his hand back on the table. 

Her breathing was a little uneven as she showed 007 the exercises he needed to do. "Don't try and do more or bend them more than they want to," she said, massaging the strong fingers to assess their condition. "If you do they will take longer to heal."

Bond nodded. "Okay." He leant down and kissed the young woman. "I'll do as I'm told." His tone suggested that he might be interested in other kinds of orders - maybe to take off his shirt - or anything else she might like?

Suppressing a desire to order 007 to lie down on the bed and have his way with her the physiotherapist sighed for missed opportunities. "I will see you in two weeks, 007. And I'll assess you then." And if that wasn't a Freudian slip, she realised ...

Bond smiled again, predatory and hungry. It has been too long since he'd spent a night with a willing partner. "Maybe you should assess me sooner than that?" But he got up to leave, leaving the woman flushed and a little disappointed.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

((I apologise to any Greek speakers if the spelling of the Greek saying is wrong. This saying is from the novel OHMSS and which wasn't mentioned in the film.))

When Bond pulled up outside the entrance to Barts Felix was waiting for him. A nurse hovered by the wheelchair ready to assist her patient into the town car Bond had borrowed as it would be easier for Felix to get into. James smiled at her and she frowned disapprovingly at an alpha flirting with her when his omega was still unwell - and when said partner had lost a pup! 

Felix was blind to the interaction, after all James wasn't his alpha. It would be very nice if he was - James was just the type of man he had always wanted - but they were friends not partners and right now that was, really, all he wanted. 

"Where to?" James asked. Felix gave him an address and he put it into the GPS . He looked over at the omega as he drove through London. The younger man was watching the streetscape as if he was a prisoner just released from durance vile. With a sudden, unexpected, jolt to his heart he realised that was what Felix had been. He'd been forced to commit crimes, made pregnant and then shot at and rendered sterile. No wonder the omega was looking at the city as if he had thought never to see it again. 

The address Felix gave him was a self-storage facility in a light industrial area and James pulled up outside the huge shed that held the lock-up that Felix rented. 

"Will your stuff still be here?" James asked. "They don't keep stuff if the rent's not paid."

"Marvels of modern electronic banking," Felix said, getting out of the car carefully. "I set up my bank account to pay every month." He and James walked along a long corridor to his lock-up. 

"Let me do that," James said, as Felix went to bend down to lift the rolling shutter. The mechanism was a little stiff from not being used but it moved easily once he got it moving. The metal walled room was only about three quarters full, mostly with cartons and wood and metal chests. There were only a couple of pieces of furniture, carefully draped with heavy plastic sheeting. 

Felix looked around at his past. "When my parents died I sold the house and most of the furniture. I had a friend who worked as a volunteer at an Oxfam Shop and he took a lot of the household stuff but I just packed up the ornaments, books and paintings and stored them here until I decided what to do with them." He shrugged. "I just haven't get around to deciding."

"You kept some furniture?" Bond asked. He was a spy he liked to know. 

"The wardrobe my mother gave me when I moved into my own room and my desk." Felix moved his head slightly in the direction of the taller piece of furniture. "Have a look." He wondered what James would make of his most treasured possession. He watched, with not a little awe, as his friend threw back the heavy plastic with ease. He had guessed that there was lots of muscle under the tailored suits and expensive jumpers but this was the first time he realised how much. 

Bond threw back the plastic dust cover and stopped, his eyes going wide. Some one had bought two panels painted with Pre-Raphaelite angels and inserted them into the doors of a heavy, Victorian, wardrobe. 

The two angels hovered against a sky blue background that seemed to be deeper than it could really be. Their white robes were bordered with jewel-like embroidery and their white and cream wings were highlighted with gold and silver and they both wore jewelled coronets over their curly blond hair. The one of the left brandished a sharp looking sword with a jewelled hilt and wore the red sandals of an Ancient Roman patrician. The other, wearing golden sandals, swung a gold and silver censor on a silver chain and from which smoke swirled in grey and white. James could almost smell the incense. He could think of nothing to say that was adequate so he turned to Felix, hoping that he really needed to say nothing, that his friend would understand that silence was the ultimate compliment.

Felix nodded, knowing how his friend felt, it had been a long time since he had last seen his angels, so much had happened. "My mother said the one with the sword would protect me and the one with the censor would bless me."

Bond wanted to glare at the angels and tell them they had not done their jobs, that Felix had been kidnapped, raped and lost his pup but he kept his tongue still. He remembered Tracy's father and that old Greek saying he had liked, herkos ondonton, 'behind the hedge of your teeth.' There was the old, familiar touch of sadness at the memory of his wife but it was muted now, with the years, a familiar sadness. 

Felix saw something, something fleeting, in his companion's eyes, a sadness, perhaps, but he knew better than to ask. Perhaps James had lost his faith or perhaps the angels reminded the other man of a lost love, perhaps an omega from long ago. He felt a twinge of jealousy and firmly pushed it away - he had no right to feel that way. 

"What do you need to collect?" Bond asked. It did no good to live in the past. Or, being the man he was now, the future of might have beens or might be's. 

"Can you uncover my desk, please." Felix pointed to the other shrouded piece of furniture. The covers, once again, were easily and neatly moved up and away and he was able to open one of the cupboards and move the lock that hid the secret drawer where he had stowed his real identity. They were all still there; credit card, driver's licence, birth certificate, the pieces of heavy vellum with his university degrees. Rifling through the papers he began to really feel like Felix Meeting again. 

Bond watched as Felix retrieved the cardboard file and checked his papers. He looked around at the wood and metal boxes stacked against the walls, the cartons and the squares and rectangles of paintings wrapped in heavy brown paper tied with coloured string. "Is there anything you'd like to take with you, something you'd like to have around?" His flat was big, there was plenty of room for a few things to make his friend feel comfortable. "Books or whatever."

The omega brightened at the suggestion, making James feel warm inside. "Maybe some books." An idea came to him. "- And there is a case of stuff ..." 

Bond nodded. "You select which cartons you want," he gave the younger, lighter man a stern look, "but don't move them yourself. I'll go and get a trolley from the office."

Felix took a pile of bulldog-clipped print-outs from a drawer and sorted through them, trying to decide which carton to choose. He would have to be selective, he couldn't expect James to put up with too much of his stuff and he certainly didn't want to give the impression he was moving in! As he decided which boxes to take and looked around to find them he wondered what James' flat would look like - the alpha obviously liked the good things of life with his bespoke suits and expensive shoes and shirts, not to mention the warm spicy after shave and the upmarket car they'd travelled in. Which reminded him that the car was not designed to move cartons of books. He would really have to be selective. 

When he returned from collecting the trolley James heard voices and stopped to look carefully around the corner to see who was talking to his friend. His hand went automatically to take out his Walther - that wasn't there. A middle aged man, taller than Felix and heavily built, was facing Felix, his stance aggressive. The omega was standing with his back straight and his head back. He looked a little worried but not frightened. James remembered that the omega had been taking care of himself for a long time and hesitated to interfere, he didn't want Felix to feel that he couldn't stand up for himself. The younger man needed to get his self-confidence back and James rushing in at the slightest excuse wasn't going to help him get back to his normal self.

"... little one," the alpha was saying, his smile not at all pleasant. "You shouldn't be here all alone. Where's your alpha, hmm?"

Felix pulled his back straight and tipped his head back to give him more height. As he did so he saw James looking around the corner of the passageway between the lock-ups and he felt a surge of pride when his friend stopped and waited, obviously giving him the chance to work out the situation for himself. But he did feel safer knowing that his handsome and well-muscled alpha was there if needed. 

"Do I need one?" Felix asked. "It's not polite to try and intimidate people, you know."

"'People?" the alpha asked. "Omega. You shouldn't be out on your own if you're afraid."

"Oh, I'm not afraid," Felix stated, realising that, with James hovering carefully he wasn't. "But that still doesn't give you the right to .." he thought a moment and said, with a sneer, "come the alpha with me. "

"Mouthy little ..." the alpha moved forward his hand raised to slap the slighter omega. "I'll teach you to respect your betters!"

"So old fashioned," Felix said with an obviously faked sigh. "Should I just faint or would you prefer me to get down on my knees?" It was very obvious that he was about to do neither of these things. 

James saw the raised hand and could not stay still a moment longer. "You hit my friend and your omega will be looking for another mate." James was an agent of the British Secret Service with a license to kill and he didn't need his Walther. His hands were around the other alpha's neck as Bond forced him up against another door. 

Felix was frozen by the change in James. He had never seen his friend look anything but amused or bored. But now James' teeth were bared in a snarl and his sky blue eyes were the colour of ice inside a glazier. He felt a little afraid of James Bond but that passed and he felt safe; protected, valued. He knew that this face of Bond's was one he kept hidden behind the smile and the light humour. He was privileged to see another aspect of his friend. 

"Let him go, James," he finally said. "He's not worth fighting." 

James smiled, teeth still bared, at the words. His Felix was a brave man. He stepped back, liking the fear in the brown eyes of the other alpha. "Leave!" He watched the alpha run and his grin softened as he turned to the omega. "You alright luv?"  
He moved closer to put a hand on a slender shoulder. "You did well."

Felix took a deep breathe, forcing himself not to lean into the strong body of the alpha who had protected him. "Thanks." His knees felt wobbly now the threat was gone. It was his first day back into the real world and he was still not as strong as he had been.

"Let's get the cartons and go home." James said, tightening his grip before moving away. 

James packed the heavy cartons of books into the boot of the car and gave Felix the slim metal case once he was settled in his seat. He wondered what was in the case but it was really none of his business. 

As he drove James asked, "do you want to go straight home or go shopping." Maybe the omega, just out of hospital would prefer to rest for a while. 

I'm okay," Felix answered. "I need a lap top and an internet connection. And a mobile phone and an ipad and a ..."

James was impressed by the list, he chuckled at the obvious eagerness to 'get connected'. "Tell me where you want to shop."

Felix wanted to stop at an ATM to make sure his credit card was still working and then he led James to the branch of a big retail outlet that sold everything the computer nerd could wish for. Confident, knowing what he wanted and happy to pay for the latest and best Felix gathered up his purchases, letting James take them from him with a smile. It was nice being looked after, treated gently. When he was feeling stronger he's probably resent the cosseting but for now he liked it. They stopped at another shop to buy a satchel to carry all the electronic gear that no twenty first century nerd should be without and returned to the car. 

Felix looked tired so James suggested, "Why don't we have some lunch. It's late night shopping. If you want to do more shopping we can do it later."

Felix stifled a yawn and nodded. He rested his head back and lazily watched the cityscape pass. They pulled out of the traffic in front of a four story art nouveau style building. James pressed the key pad of his mobile phone in a sequence of numbers and the heavy metal gate to the underground car park opened. "This used to be a residential hotel," James explained as he pulled into his parking spot. "When it was turned into flats I bought one. It makes having a car a lot easier having a secure place to park." The underground space was large, the ceiling held up with red brick arches. At the back were metal storage spaces. "This used to be parking for the residents and the kitchens. When the building was converted the space was cleared for extra parking space and access for delivery vehicles. The arches were put in to reinforce the roof - and for a bit of show as well, I think." After all, if the building had needed propping up after load bearing walls had been taken out iron beams and concrete would have done as well as brick arches. Though they did match the ones that were already there, from the original build. 

James fetched a supermarket trolley from a collection near the lift and filled it with the cartons of books, the metal case and the boxes and plastic bags from the computer shop and the omega's overnight bag from the hospital. He typed in the sequence of numbers to call the lift and to allow it to stop at his floor. There was plenty of room for the two of them and the trolley, even though the car still had it's fancy iron work and etched glass decorations. They rose silently and quickly to the top floor and Felix opened the doors so James could push the trolley out into the hallway. 

James pointed one of the three other painted wooden doors. "The Wentworths are an elderly couple with grown up children who visit once a month or so with the grandchildren but they are away on a cruise at the moment. " Another door. "Mary and Allan Ridgeway-Allerton. She's a judge at the Old Bailey he's something big in the City. One teenage child, Francis, who's away at school at the moment. And this is us." 

Inside the door was a square foyer with a green marble floor that was easy to keep clean in the Winter when they needed to store wet umbrellas and overcoats. There was a heavy old fashioned chair and a small table with a bronze seahorse sculpture and an Indian brass bowl. "Your keys are in there and a list of the security numbers. Memorise them and then destroy the list." He dropped his own keys into the bowl. He had bought the bowl while he was in the Navy and had somehow held onto it through all the changes in his life since those more straightforward days. 

"Thank you." Felix was touched that his friend wanted him to feel that he lived here and could come and go as he pleased. James took the boxes and bags out of the trolley, leaving it by the door to be taken down next time they went out. He stacked them neatly inside, locked the door and then picked up the two cartons and carried them into the main room. Felix, picking up his case and his purchases carefully, was impressed. James was obviously a strong man!

James placed the cartons by the long leather settee, pleased that he had lost none of the strength in his arms and that his hands were secure around the cartons. They had felt fat and stiff when the bandages had first come off but now they worked as well as ever. The physiotherapist at HQ was pleased at his patience when he had not overdone the exercises she had shown him and had advised him that another two weeks would see the healing process finished. Already he was able to use his hand to lift weights and do chin ups. But much as he revelled in his returning strength it gave him less pleasure than simply carrying two cartons of books for a friend. 

Felix was impressed by the size of flat but the decor looked as if it had been chosen to suit anybody who bought the place. He followed James as his friend showed him the kitchen and bathroom and then the bedrooms. James' was cream, dark blue and flashes of light green, Felix's terracotta and cream. Soothing, pleasant and almost completely impersonal. It made Felix a little sad. 

"I'll go and put the kettle on and make some lunch," Bond said, leaving his guest alone to unpack. 

The omega unpacked his few clothes. James had bought underwear and a couple of tracksuits and pyjamas but he definitely needed more clothes and in a style he felt more comfortable wearing. As he carefully draped his TARDIS quilt over the back of the comfortably padded chair by the window he started making a mental note of what he would need. While James was cooking Felix opened the metal case he'd brought from his lock-up and studied the jewellery boxes packed inside. He opened some of them and finally made his selection. 

After a hearty lunch Felix felt a little tired but before he let himself fall asleep he handed the jewellery box to his friend. James took the box with a raised brow and opened it. His first reaction was to refuse the gift as being too generous but, instead, he thanked the omega knowing the other man was trying to express how grateful he was for James' care - and for saving his life. "Thank you," James said, turning the box so the light lit up blue diamonds set in silver cuff links. 

"They were my father's," Felix explained "and I know he would want you to have them." He thought the diamonds were the colour of James's eyes, the soft blue of the sky, with a hard sharpness he was only now beginning to see. He yawned, sleep making him feel heavy eyed. 

James smiled as his omega relaxed back in his seat, his eyes closing. "Don't fall asleep here," he chided gently. When there was no answer he picked up the younger man and carried him gently to bed. He managed to strip Felix of his track suit top and trainers but left the rest of his clothes on and gently lay the TARDIS quilt over him. He liked the feeling of having his friend in his home and closed the door almost shut and went to look through the personal papers Felix had left on the coffee table. He started with his CV.

Felix was 34 years old and had been born in Clifton and was an only child. Walter Meeting had been a barrister and solicitor specialising in inheritance and real estate law, his mother, Lucy, had been educated in an omega only school with an emphasis on running a home and looking after babies, her family, Bond judged, had been old fashioned and not considered an omega worth a proper education. Despite her lack of formal education Lucy had run a small but successful dressmaking and millinery business from home. They seemed to be ordinary middle class people. Felix had been sent to Clifton School from his Junior year to Sixth Form. He had received extra tutoring in the sciences and been an active member of the Chess Club and the Computer Club. From Clifton he had gone to Cambridge to study computer science and engineering and had earned a double first. His parents had died while he was at university and after getting his degrees he had taken a job with a mercantile bank's security department. His half-yearly reviews had all been positive. 

Bond turned to the reports and references in a separate plastic file. His tutors at Cambridge had given him glowing evaluations and he had won an award for co-operating with an engineering student who had built a robot that was capable of walking up stairs. Also included were drawings and printouts of gadgets Felix himself had designed and built. If the omega's background check came back clean Felix would make a good recruit for MI6. He'd speak to Tanner, the Chief of Staff for the Secret Service, as it was his decision.

Putting the papers back exactly how Felix had left them Bond made himself tea and settled down to read until his friend woke. 

When Felix woke he lay looking up at the ceiling wondering where he was. Then he remembered and he sighed, feeling safe. He knew the man who had kidnapped him was dead and that he had been safe in the hospital but some how he felt safer with James to look after him. His friend was more than he seemed on the surface, Felix was sure. The way he had treated the alpha at the lock-up, the expression on his face, the chill in his eyes had given away more than the alpha thought. He had mentioned working for International Exports so maybe he was more than just a courier, maybe he was some kind of security expert - international trade would take him to some dangerous places. He would watch and listen and maybe he'd find out more about James Bond. Finally he got up and went to wash his hands and face. He was rested and he felt like several cups of tea and something sweet to go with them and then he had some shopping to do.

Over tea the omega opened his cartons of books and they talked about the ones they had read so many years ago. "After I read Day Of the Triffids I was suspicious of any unusual looking plant for month," Felix confessed. 

James had never been a great fan of science fiction but he had read some of the books in the carton and he nodded his agreement with his friend's reaction to Triffids. He had enjoyed the book because of its descriptions of people's reactions to stress but when it came to SF he preferred Heinlein's more warlike novels. But there was one famous English science fiction character he liked. He'd once spent a long and boring convalescence watching television and found he enjoyed the adventures of Dr Who and he occasionally watched an episode when he was between missions. "Who is your favourite Dr Who villain? Or perhaps I should say what?" He asked, remembering the Cybermen and the screams of their altered victims.

 

"The stone angels," Felix answered straightaway. "It's every one's worst nightmare - not knowing what's creeping up behind you."

Bond, who had suffered being crept up on in real life shivered. "Maybe we can watch some episodes some time?"

Felix smiled the warm smile that James was beginning to treasure. "I'd like that." And added a visit to the BBC web site on-line shop to his list of things to do as soon as he had time. 

Bond finished his tea. "If you want you can leave your books here or keep them by your bed. Will you be needing a desk?" He could set one up in the small third bedroom. "We could get yours brought here if you like."

"Thanks," Felix said. He was going to have to be very tidy with his stuff, the flat looked as if James didn't spend much time in it and he didn't want to make it look untidy. "I'll contact a moving company." 

James watched his friend select clothes that he thought were garish and mismatched. Patterned slacks and ties, white shirts, black lace up boots. No silk ties or coloured shirts and if it clashed it got added to the pile . But when the young man started selecting cardigans James had to hide his reaction. Felix took his selections to a changing room and when he came out Bond could see the style in what he had selected that somehow seemed to suit the man. 

Felix felt more comfortable in his new clothes and got the shop to pack the track suit and trainers into a bag. They would do for lounging around. He also selected a plain scarf and an anorak - what the well dressed nerd was wearing this year. He turned to Bond as the clerk packed his bags. "Will you introduce me to your tailor? I'm going to need a suit to wear to job interviews and when I look at flats." He would want to give a properly professional impression and a man going for the kind of job he wanted would be expected to be able to afford a good suit. It would also impress landlords.

"Of course," James said, relieved that his friend would have at least one decent outfit! "But there's no hurry. When you feel stronger."

Felix nodded, he wasn't really eager to leave James. His attempt at living a less high-flying life had gone disastrously wrong. It was a sad truth that, despite the changes in brought about my Omega Lib, he was still an omega and open to potential abuse. 

James was ready for dinner and as they left the clothing shop he asked, "Indian, Chinese or Italian?" He rarely bothered to cook anything but the simplest meals when he was at home and he was used to dining in the best restaurants. He was shocked by the reaction his simple question caused. Felix started to shake and he dropped the bags he had been carrying as he looked around, fearful.

"Felix, what's wrong, luv?" James asked, pulling the omega instinctively into his chest and wrapping his arms around the slender shoulders he looked around for danger.

Felix didn't answer for a long moment and when he did his voice was low and shaky. "That's what Stephen used to say. 'Indian, Chinese or Italian.' That's all he and the others seemed to eat." He pressed closer to the strong alpha who held him close, the memories coming back full force. "I had to almost beg for fruit. When I got pregnant I told him I needed meat and vegetables and cheese and ... and ... I was afraid for my pup if I didn't get the right food and scared because he wouldn't take me to see a doctor and I didn't know what would happen when I went into labour. I was afraid and alone and stressed out and I couldn't sleep and even though I was hungry I couldn't eat and ... and I was SO afraid."

James rubbed a hand up and down the omega's back, not quite knowing what to say or do. He had been alone since the year his parents died and his training had turned any fear he had into an adrenalin high. So he just stood on the street and held his friend and waited for the storm of tears and fear to pass.

When Felix felt calmer he pulled out of James' arms, wiping at his eyes. His friend offered him a white, perfectly ironed linen handkerchief and the sight of it make him smile a little - it was so James! Even his handkerchiefs had to be perfect. He wiped his eyes and said, "sorry about that. Bad memories."

Bond, who knew about bad memories ran a gently finger down the omega's cheek. "It's to be expected."

Felix nodded and bent to collect his bags, feeling weary and dispirited. What would James think of him? He was no needy omega, wanting to be protected from every little thing. He'd been amongst the first cohort of omegas who studied science instead of the arts - the social sciences were so much more suitable for omegas every one had said. And hadn't he felt smug when he was given his PhD and the award for the stair climbing robot! 

"Let's get you home," James said, picking up the bags. "It's all been a bit too much for your first day out of hospital."

The omega nodded. Maybe James was right, maybe he was just tired. 

Felix had recovered some of his usual calm cheerfulness by the time they got home and insisted on carrying his own bags. He enjoyed unpacking and hanging up his clothes. But his tears had tired him and he lay down and fell into a deep refreshing sleep. 

While Felix was unpacking Bond poured himself a measure of scotch and stood staring out of the window, down to the busy street. It was a good job Stephen Merchant was dead; if he hadn't been Bond would have hunted him down and taken a great deal of selfish pleasure in killing the man who had hurt his omega.

His omega! James stopped with his glass lifted for another sip. Was he thinking of claiming Felix? Could he take the risk of loving again? Would Felix want him anyway? He was not going to force his friend into a bond where there was no love. He was a spy, a spy with a licence to kill for Queen and Country. Not the kind of man Felix deserved. He let himself think for a moment that he might be the kind of man Felix wanted. 

When his stomach reminded James that he was hungry he thought about food and remembered the pub just around the corner. They did a lovely roast dinner - they were rather upmarket for take-aways but money could work wonders. 

The Traveller's Arms were not impressed by a request to pack their very fine roast chicken into plastic containers but the chef - surprising his minions - allowed it, when James explained that he had a sick omega who craved a roast meal. He had a pregnant omega at home who had craved ice cream early this morning and hadn't he got out of bed and found exactly the type and brand his Laurence wanted? Omega's deserved looking after when they were having the cravings that went with carrying pups. But he made Bond pay enough to make up for his having to do take-away! 

It was the smell of roast chicken that woke Felix. He followed his nose out to the kitchen, his mouth watering at the heavenly aroma. He sat down at the table to a large serve of roast chicken with vegetables (lots of vegetables), stuffing and gravy. A glass of wine completed a fine meal and he ate until he could eat no more. He took a final sip of wine to wash down his last bite and sat back with a sigh. He looked across the table with a fond smile. "Thank you, James, that was the finest meal I have had in way too long." 

James felt his alpha instincts preen themselves on feeding his omega. "Why don't you go and sit down somewhere more comfortable and I'll make us coffee - unless you want tea?" 

"The dishes?" Felix offered. "You went to all the trouble of getting me a meal I really wanted, the least I can do is help clear up the table." James had told him the story of the romantic chef and the insulted minions. It had amused them both.

"Not tonight," James said standing and shaking his head. "You're full and still tired. You can start helping tomorrow."

Feeling way too relaxed to argue Felix forced himself to walk as far as one of the very comfortable leather armchairs. He lay back, eyes half closed, legs stretched out in front of him. He could get very used to living like this. He decided that when he was furnishing his own place he'd get seats exactly like these. The thought robbed him of his ease and pleasure and he sat up and looked around for the television remote. Maybe there would be something on interesting enough to distract him from his growing desire to stay here and live with James for ever.

Stacking the plates in the dishwasher James wrestled with a sudden sadness. He wanted to have Felix here, to look after and be with, and he knew that his life just didn't have room for the brainy omega. He could not be faithful to his omega, sometimes he needed to seduce a man or woman, omega or beta, sometimes even an alpha, and even if he had Felix at home he would still need to do what his duty to Queen and Country required of him. His lips thinned, with a kind of inward anger; at himself, his job, at M who sent him out to kill and seduce. But he had chosen - and if he had chosen long ago, before meeting Felix, that did not mean he could unchose just because his promise was no longer attractive. After Tracy he had come back to MI6, having nowhere else to go and still he had nowhere else to go. A man did not lay down a freely accepted burden because it had suddenly become too heavy. No, he would continue to be 007 and lie awake and alone and be thankful that he had the memories to keep the cold darkness at bay. And if the memories were not enough then there was always a martini shaken, not stirred, and beautiful bodies to lie with and enjoy.

 

Felix felt ... something ... something he wasn't sure HE was feeling. There was sadness, yes, that could be his, but there was anger mixed with a different kind of sadness - more like resignation than sadness. Then, he realised that he was feeling James' feelings mixed with his own. And, although his sadness remained, he felt ... something more ... perhaps hope; Hope that did not escape Pandora's Box. And he sat up straighter, his lips lifting a little. If James was sad and resigned then that meant he really didn't want Felix to leave, even if for some reason he had decided that he should. With a nod Felix made a decision. He was supposed to be an intelligent man he could and would think of a way of keeping them together. Tomorrow he'd use his brains and his computer skills; he'd had enough of the world doing TO him, it was time he started DOING to the world. 

By the time he handed Felix his tea Bond was back to his usual urbane self; some how he felt better. Perhaps his acceptance of his duty had let him enjoy what he had while he had it. There was a spark of something in the younger man's eyes, some expression he couldn't quite work out. But when the omega smiled at him he forgot about his burdens.

The omega had found a so-called reality programme on the television and the two men spent an entertaining hour pointing out the errors of the competitors to each other. Then James asked Felix to tell him how he, a man with a very good education and a top-flight job ended up working in an ordinary computer shop.

"I grew to dislike my job with Atlas Corp," Felix explained. "It paid very well, I had a place in Docklands with a view of the river, but when they got a new CEO he insisted that we start using commercial security programs instead of ones written in-house." Felix sipped at his cup. "I stayed and did what he ordered but I realised that when - not if - the company got hacked into I would be the one to be blamed for not doing my job, even if I had told the boss that it was his fault that company security was being compromised. So I handed in my resignation. 

"I took a holiday and then decided that I wanted to do something different for a while so I became John Maddox and got a job in a local computer store." Felix shook his head. "It was silly and I got caught and kept in that warehouse." But the couple of years he had lived in a modest flat and drunk at a local with a few friends from work had been a pleasant, a much needed change. But, even if he hadn't been kidnapped he would one day have gone back to a more demanding job. A change might be as good as a rest but there was such a thing as too much rest! 

James slipped out of his seat and knelt before his friend. "I'm sorry your search for something easier lead to pain," James said. "Is there anything I can do?"

Felix took a strong, scarred hand in his. "Just be you," he said, wondering at the scars and calluses. "I spent some time talking with a councillor while I was in hospital. She said it would take some time but to allow myself to be sad and to remember." 

James nodded. "Yes, it's good to take time to be sad and to remember." Something, a sudden moment of enlightenment, flitted across his mind. How much time had be taken to be sad and remember? Maybe he had taken too much time. He pushed the thought aside for now. 

The evening passed quietly. The two friends talking about films they'd seen or programmes they'd watched on television. Felix went to bed early, still not fully recovered from his shooting but James stayed up, sipping at a glass of single malt, thinking lazy thoughts. When he went to bed he shut the door of his bedroom firmly, he often had nightmares and he didn't want the omega, who had his own reasons to suffer from the attentions of the Night Mare, woken. But both men slept easily and without remembering their dreams when they woke the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

 

When Felix followed his nose into the kitchen he smiled; James was wearing tailored slacks, a long sleeved t-shirt and a perfectly ironed butcher's apron. Unspotted by cooking spills, of course. The omega was starting to think that his friend was protected by some sort of force field that didn't allow creases or spots. 

James looked up from the frying pan as Felix entered the kitchen. His senses had been so sharpened by training and experience that he knew when he was not alone even if only subconsciously. "Scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. With tea not coffee."

Felix smiled. His perfect alpha. The thought didn't worry him - he had known when he woke up that James was going to be his bonded mate and it was only a matter of time before the other man realised it and gave in. "I'll be getting fat and then you'll think I'm not your type after all."

James shook his head. "You are too thin and I would never think that." He had spoken without thinking and he stopped; shocked. But Felix was smiling at him. He froze, wondering what the other man would make of his slip of the tongue.

Seeing the troubled look on his friend's face Felix just smiled, making sure James would only see the mild pleasure anybody might feel after a compliment. "And this time I insist on cleaning up afterwards."

Relieved, James smiled. "Suits me," he turned to serve the food, though a lot of people thought that housework was something omegas did and that it was unmanly for alphas to cook. 007 didn't see why he shouldn't cook if he wanted to and how difficult was it to put dishes in a dishwasher?

"Suits me," Felix said, copying his friend's words. As he sipped at his tea he hid a smile. James was SO going to be his! Of course, if he detected the slightest dislike for a relationship in James he'd back off, not force a relationship however much he wanted one, but something he sensed told him that he would never have to do that. James, he felt, might be reluctant for some reason and might need some delicate prompting. He was a very intelligent man; he could do subtle.

"What are your plans for the day?" James asked as he sipped his second cup of coffee. 

"I need to do some laundry," Felix answered, "and book a removalist for my desk. If you've got anything that needs washing I can do yours as well."

Bond nodded his thanks for the offer as he pushed a business card across the table. "These are reliable." The company had been checked out by MI6, of course. "I'm going into HQ." He had taken photographs of all of Felix's documents and they would be checked thoroughly. If his friend was who he said he was - and James had no reasons to think otherwise - then the omega would be offered a job in Q Branch, the section that supplied agents with equipment and provided IT back-up. James had heard that the current Quartermaster was intending to build up the personnel and equipment of the computer section of his domain and Felix would be a perfect recruit - if he passed the very rigorous vetting process. 007 was due to take his fitness evaluation to make sure he was ready to go back to work. He had made sure he lost none lost any fitness during his medical leave and he was eager to get back doing what he had been trained to do, he missed the travel, the adrenalin highs and the sex.

When James left Felix washed the dishes and put the first load into the washing machine. He called the company that James had recommended and fixed a time for collecting and delivering his desk and then turned to exploring the flat properly. He started in the foyer studying the small room closely. There was a clear plastic umbrella in the metal stand - not a man's he thought. Left by some woman that he hoped would not be back for it. It was tightly furled and there was a faint covering on dust on the handle - good. There was a long black overcoat and scarf on the coat rack, James had obviously taken the three-quarter length pea-coat that he had worn the day before since it was rainy and damp but not cold enough for full length overcoat. His own parka hung next to it, looking rather plebeian next to the dark, tailored wool. And, being James Bond, the coat hangers were wood not plastic.

Felix studied the seahorse sculpture before deciding that it was probably something the estate agent had used to make the flat look better when it was up for sale. But the Indian bowl looked used and there were some obvious scratches, Bond's then, not part of the fittings. 

The kitchen cupboards were almost empty. There was a set of fine white dishes and good cutlery as well as a basic set of cooking pots and pans. There was a metal mug tree but the mugs gave away nothing of their owners taste apart from the fact that they were dark blue fine china and not something from Woolworth's. One cupboard held a couple of bottles of single malt scotch and another had been fitted out as a wine store. Felix wasn't a wine buff but even he knew fine wine when he saw the labels. There were packets of biscuits but no biscuit barrel and no packets or tins of food. Bond, it seemed, ate only breakfast at home. A check of the refrigerator confirmed that; there was eggs, bacon, cheese, bread and butter but nothing else. The freezer compartment was empty though the ice cube maker was full. 

Resisting the temptation to look into his flat-mate's bedroom Felix looked around the living room. He found a pile of framed prints tucked away behind a chair and went to look out of the bay windows down onto the street. He went back to the prints and looked around at the walls. He wondered why James had never used the hooks already in place or put his own in. He lifted the first, considered the walls but decided that he was too new a friend to James to do his decorating. He turned instead to look at the bookshelf, reading the titles of the books that filled only two of the shelves. It seemed that James liked military history and Felix nodded to himself - it fit the man. He went to his box of books and picked up a couple to add them to the shelves. The washing machine beeped and he moved the washed clothes to the drier and put another load into wash. While he was in the laundry he opened the large linen cupboard. Towels were neatly folded in piles according to size and other shelves held bed linen, spare blankets and pillows. Everything was marked with a laundry number and when Felix turned to look at the rack which held dry cleaning the - wood again - hangers were marked with the same number as was the large linen hamper fixed to a rack for easy access. Bond had said that the cleaners came in Tuesday morning and that the laundry was collected Tuesday afternoon from outside the front door of the flat and returned Thursday morning. Since Felix had no desire to spend his time doing housekeeping - omega or not - he had had the same sort of arrangement when he lived at Docklands. 

Felix returned to the living room and fitted his books in with James'. When he started to feel tired he made himself tea and opened a packet of biscuits. He was finding Day of the Triffids as interesting as it was the first time he'd read the novel and he only put the book down when the drier and washing machine beeped again. There were two plastic laundry baskets hanging on the wall over the ironing bench and the omega used one for James' washing and placed it outside his bedroom door. He shook his head over his distaste for invading his friend's privacy when the cleaner would obviously go in to vacuum and dust but he felt that a paid servant was different to a houseguest. 

When all the books were shelved Felix felt tired but pleased. He went back to the kitchen and made cheese on toast and a mug of tea. He finished off his meal by slicing up an apple from the fruit bowl and taking the plate, as well as more tea, into the main room and settling comfortably on the long settee with his lap top. He munched on a slice of apple and logged onto the home page of his favourite on-line bookshop. He took a deep breath, let it out with a pleased sigh and went book-shopping. When he felt stronger and could stand up for long enough he would visit his favourite bookshop - there was nothing more enjoyable than looking at long rows of books just waiting to be browsed - but he could check his favourite authors and the magazines he had bought whilst in hospital had told him there was a new Dr Who so he had some DVDs to buy. 

Bond was having lunch with Bill Tanner, the Chief of Staff for MI6. He knew he had passed his medical and fitness assessment and he had only his psychological evaluation to pass and he would be back in the field as soon as a suitable mission came up. He hated psych branch - they kept on telling him he wasn't a sane or happy man and then sending him out to do things that no sane or happy man would do. If every agent, especially the double O's, who was mentally scarred was retired the security of the United Kingdom would have to be taken over by school boys and 'tally ho, Queen and Country' types - who would soon be declared not fit for active duty due to mental trauma!

After he had showered and changed out of his track suit and into a deep grey red pinstriped suit, white shirt and a tie subtly patterned in red and blue on grey Bond had picked up the large padded envelope he had brought with him and joined Tanner for lunch. It was an indication of his fitness that after a morning of strenuous exercise the only thing he felt was hungry. 

When the two men had finished their lunch Bond slid the envelope across the table. "The t-shirts arrived from Japan a couple of days ago."

"Thank you, 007," Tanner said, taking the tops out and holding them up. The strange large eyed versions of Japanese anima comic characters looked back through fringes that covered most of their round, European-looking eyes. They had pointed ears and carried swords on their backs. Their names in Japanese characters finished the designs, one girl and one boy. "The twins will love these! Thanks for doing the ordering for me." The website of a large comic store in Tokyo had been all in Japanese and Tanner had asked Bond to order the t-shirts as birthday presents for his teenage twins. "They'll be the envy of their whole class."

"It was no trouble," Bond assured his friend. Tanner had despaired of getting the t-shirts until he remembered that James had taken a Double First in Oriental languages at Cambridge and had then asked for his help. James had had the tops posted to his address as he didn't know the Chief of Staff's. "There's a couple of comics in there as well - presents from me - with the translation pencilled in." The receipt was in the envelope and Tanner could just transfer funds to Bond's account. 

It was a privilege, dubious in Bond's opinion, of Double O agents to have the Chief of Staff observe their fitness testing and Tanner was concerned about 007's psych eval; the man was touchy at the best of times but Psych Branch managed to find all of his sore spots to poke, why Tanner wasn't sure. No sane man would or could do what the agents with a licence to kill did so why upset them by telling them how insane they were? He finished his tea and stood up, picking up the envelope, "I have to go and check something. I'll come down to psych later; and don't forget - my office at three for Anderson."

Bond nodded as he stood up as well. He didn't say so but he appreciated Tanner's delicacy - the man would stay away from Psych for as long as he could without actually breaking the rules. 

In no hurry to sit in a brightly lit room while a man he didn't like tried to work out how his mind worked Bond used the stairs instead of the lift, thinking about the a conversation he had had with Felix late the evening before. He'd complained about having to sit in an uncomfortable chair while somebody rummaged in his psyche and had been rather put out when the omega chuckled. Felix had looked up and quickly sobered before explaining why he thought a psychological evaluation was amusing.

"When I worked for Atlas Banking & Corporate - Atlas Corp - they hired a new head of Human Resources from a bank in the U.S. He decided that everybody in the firm had to take a psychological profiling exam. There were protests, of course, but not much that could be done; it wasn't about being employed by Atlas or not, 'just so we know what our employees talents are,'." Neither Bond nor Felix believed that and they shared a grimace of distaste. Then the omega smiled, rather mischievously. "One of the lower level clerks, not anybody who the head of HR would normally have noticed, sent him, the CEO and anybody else she could think of an email saying that in the original myth of Psyche and Eros, Psyche was considered the personification of the Human Soul. She added that since she was a regular worshipper at her local Church of England if she had any problems with her psyche-soul she would talk to her vicar and she would not be submitting to an examination by someone who didn't have a degree in divinity!" 

"Did she get away with it?" Bond asked, wishing he could use that excuse to avoid Psych branch. 

Felix nodded. "And she wasn't the only one. The head of Accounting was a very enthusiastic member of the Salvation Army and said he wasn't going to either."

"But you did?" James asked, wondering how his friend had managed to find the incident so amusing.

"Oh, yes," the omega's smile was wide. "I found a whole bunch of web sites that listed the questions that are usually asked in those one word answer things and read up on the answers." A devilish grin. "And the poor man who was checking me out didn't know what to do! I'd practiced so I gave the 'correct' answers without thinking about them so I had a perfect score. Of course, no one should have a perfect score but he couldn't do or say anything because I got all the answers right."

Bond had laughed and wished he could get away with cheating on his psych eval. Felix had shrugged and said, "well, you know the questions they are likely to ask?" When Bond nodded he shrugged and said, "any that you feel will reveal too much about you think of an innocuous answer and go over it in your mind until it becomes your answer."

Neither man had worried that the suggestion was cheating, sharing a common dislike of psychologists, and as he went down the stairs Bond went over his answers to the most prying questions.

The man assigned to Bond was middle-aged. He had a pile of papers in front of him and a blue ballpoint pen to fill in 007's answers. As the agent sat down he made a note of the time, wondering how long it would be before Bond would storm out of the room and refuse to answer anymore questions. He started with the easy words, explaining, unnecessarily that he wanted only one word answers and worked up to the one word that always provoked a storming out and a slamming of doors.

"Sky."

James smirked, and answered, "light." And enjoyed the look of absolute surprise on his interrogator's face.

Normally the question provoked a storm of memories: His childhood home was Skyfall Manor and he had hated it. Hated the dark, cold stone; the isolation and the everlasting Scottish moors. He had been left there while his parents climbed mountains all over the world and one day Kinkaid, the estate manager, had come to him - his parents had been killed by one of their beloved mountains. He'd retreated to the priest's hole hidden behind the dark oak wainscoting of the hall and sat there for three days. It had been his descent into the Underworld - not the hot, fiery Hell of the Christians but the cold, dark Hel of the North. And when he had left his hiding place the cold and dark had become part of him, had sunk into his mind and soul and spirit. 

Felix - lucky Felix - had saved him from once more betraying the pain he had never managed to tear out of himself. The alarm on his wristwatch beeped and James stood up. "I have an appointment I have to keep," he said, enjoying the puzzled look on the psychologist's face. With a smirk and a bounce in his step he left the man alone.

Bond had set his alarm for ten to three, this was one meeting he did not intend to miss or be late for.   
The Chief of Staff's office door was open and when James entered he saw that 009 had come up from Medical and that agent 739 was already there as well. Anderson was a young man with light coffee coloured skin and dark wavy hair that hung to his collar. He wore jeans and a blue shirt under a leather jacket, the few times 007 had seen him around HQ he had always dressed in the same neat casual way, though his hair was longer that usual. 

Right on three o'clock Tanner entered his office, followed by M, the head of MI6, shutting and locking the door behind them. "The Quartermaster has turned off all surveillance." Bond went to help 009 stand; the other double 0 agent was still pale and unsteady after a mission gone disastrously wrong but protocol said he should stand and 009 would stand, no matter the pain.

"Thomas Anderson," M turned to the younger agent. "This is the last time you will be called by that name. Do you agree to this?"

Anderson nodded. "I do, sir."

M nodded, having expected no other answer but the question had to be asked. When the British Secret Service had first began appointing agents with a licence to kill giving up your family name was a big step for any young man. 

The Chief of Staff picked up a small, plain wooden box and held it out to no-longer-Anderson. "All your ID please."

The young agent took out his wallet and dropped its contents, once by one, into the box. The last thing he removed was a small photograph of a young, dark skinned woman. He ran his fingers over the image - MI6 preferred to promote orphans to the double 0 programme - and then dropped the photograph into the box along with his identity as Thomas Anderson. Tanner closed the box and locked it away in the heavy old fashioned safe in the corner. When this man died the box would be buried with him - in death he would be Thomas Anderson once more.

M picked up a wallet waiting on the desk. "Welcome to MI6 Agent Moorecroft, 004."

"Thank you sir." There was a door in the far wall and unprompted Moorecroft opened it and entered the dressing room and the clothes waiting for him. He stripped naked, he was going to be a different man now - from the skin out; underwear and then he dressed in the suit, shirt and tie waiting on hangers. Even as he was being fitted for the beautifully tailored clothes he had worried if he would be able to keep up the reputation that double 0's had for sartorial magnificence but, now, looking at himself in the mirror he was confident he would not be letting down MI6's reputation. His suit was deep brown, his shirt the palest yellow and his tie the colour of amber. His shoes were dark tan and matched the leather gloves waiting on a shelf along with a woollen scarf to go with his Burberry trench coat. 

The various personas of the double 0 agents had been fixed long ago and a new agent simply took on the persona when the old agent died. Some adjustments had been made when non-Europeans and women had begun to fill the shoes of agents from the past and he wondered who the original 004 had been. 

He remembered the 007 he had met when he first joined the Secret Service. That Bond had been tall, taller than the present incumbent of that persona, dark haired with deep blue eyes and a smile that betrayed a certain pleasure in being a double 0. The Bond he would be working with was a sadder, angrier man, blonde instead of dark haired and with the coldest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. 004 looked at himself in the mirror and wondered how long it would be before his eyes, too, grew cold and distant. But that was for the future, one he might not live to see. Straightening his back and picking up his trench coat he left the dressing room, ready for his future. However long or short it would be. One thing he would do was to make sure that any future 004's were proud to own up to that number. There would never be another 006 working for MI6 - Alec Trevalyn had been the last. 

The other four men had been joined by 005 who looked like she had just got off an aeroplane but she was as unwrinkled and as impeccably stylish as her male colleagues. Her blazer and slacks were as beautifully styled as her male colleagues' suits and she wore a white, collared blouse lightened by a silk scarf in swirls of red and purple and one of her signature capes, this one in dark blue, was thrown over a chair back. 

M poured spirits into cut glass and they all sipped; Moorecroft didn't really like any alchaholic drinks but he swallowed a token amount and held the glass in a way that hid the contents. He generally worked in the Middle East and preferred thick Turkish coffee, strong sweet tea or fruit juice to beer or wine. His parents hadn't disapproved of alchahol they'd just never bothered with it and he had never acquired the taste. 

"004, report to me at 0900 tomorrow for your first assignment." M said as he put down his empty glass. And that was it; with no more ceremony than a change of clothes and a drink a man now had a licence to kill. He nodded goodbye and left the office. 

"Yes, sir." The other agents moved forward to shake 004's hand and then they left him alone with Tanner. 

"The keys to your new flat, 004," Tanner handed over a small bundle of keys on a ring with a large four in silver. "And your office and personal mobile phones. When you go out on your assignments you will leave the keys and your personal mobile in your locker here at HQ. Cleaners will take care of anything in your flat and your new bank account has what should be sufficient funds but if you need more let accounting know. These are the PIN for your bank account and access codes for the security on your flat."

004 took the keys, 'phones and slip of paper and left the office. He felt like he needed a good strong cup of tea. He had bought a ticket to the hot new musical that had just opened and with luck his seat neighbour would be pretty and interesting. And if he was lucky available. After all he had to keep up the reputation of the Double 0 section!


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE  
Meretseger 

The 'Sharpe' series mentioned below starred Sean Bean ( Alec Trevalyn, 006). In the Bond books and the early films there is mention of Bond's time at Eton and Cambridge. I had Felix born in Clifton like Mr Wishaw.

James let himself into his flat with a sigh of pleasure. His assignment had taken him to the United States and he'd spent some time with his old friend Felix Leiter, his 'Cousin From Langley'. They'd played poker with a couple of other agents from the CIA and Bond had won enough to buy a present for Felix. The Omega was a SF fan and a stuffed R2D2 was taking up a lot of space in his carry-on luggage. It was really a child's toy but he was sure it would make Felix laugh. 

The flat was quiet and it looked like his friend was out, which disappointed James a little - the place felt cold without the cheering company of his omega. Stopping to open up a bottle of scotch and pour himself a glassful he went to his bedroom and changed from his suit into soft, comfortable corduroys and a navy blue Arran jumper. It was only early afternoon but the famous London drizzle made the flat feel colder than it actually was, what with central heating, so he turned on the fake log gas fire in the old fashioned fireplace. 

The flat had changed a little in the days since he'd been sent out to the USA. The smaller spare room had become Felix's office, complete with the roll-top desk and a work table scattered with bits of electronic wiring and books on computers and electronic engineering filling the small bookshelf fixed to the wall by the window. There was a Star Wars poster on one wall and one of the original Star Ship Enterprise hovering over a blue ice planet. ((I have one.))

In the kitchen tea bags now filled a TARDIS shaped caddy and a biscuit barrel shaped like a stack of liquorice all-sorts sat on the kitchen bench. Nothing big, nothing to indicate the omega was taking over - just little things that made the flat look like somebody actually lived there. Felix hadn't made any attempt to encourage him to hang up his art works. The only decoration on the mantelpiece over the gas fire was M's union flag-wearing bull dog. Bond had seen Felix looking at the statue, obviously wondering why James should have such a thing in such a prominent place but Omega sensitivity had obviously stopped him asking about it. 

Too restless yet to settle down Bond wandered over to look at the books in their shared bookshelf and then to the stack of DVDs by the television. A box set caught his eye and he picked it up to study the picture of a tall blond haired man on the cover. He wore a Peninsula War-era green rifle-man's tunic and carried a long rifle over one arm with practiced ease. It might be an interesting series to watch - if it was done properly. He put the box down as he heard a key in the front door and turned to see who it was, tensing in case of trouble. When he smelt Felix's re-assuring scent he relaxed and moved forwards to greet his Omega; though he didn't realise how he categorised his friend.

"James? Are you home?" Felix had noticed the dark overcoat that James had been wearing when he left ten days ago. He was wearing the two tone blue windowpane patterned suit he had picked out when he was taken to James's tailor. 

"Just in," James answered, moving closer. His friend looked damp from his walk from the tube. "Why don't you go and change and I'll make you some tea?" The patterned suit looked better than Bond had thought it would but it was definitely not in his style. A shake of his head - he'd look ridiculous in that distinctive a pattern but Felix carried it off with the air of a man who liked what he was wearing and didn't really care what anybody else thought. And for that James respected the omega even more. 

"Thanks," Felix smiled and went to take off his suit. he quickly changed into baggy track pants and a hand knitted jumper. He added brightly patterned socks and hurried back into the main room to share his news. He was still shaking with shock and pleasure. He'd been offered a ride home in a company car, the one that collected him earlier in the afternoon, but he'd needed some time to get used to the big change in his life. Of course it had started to rain as he left MI6 headquarters and he hadn't thought to put on his anorak earlier. 

James made tea for them both, putting his still half-filled glass aside until later.

"I've got some good news! I've got a job …" Felix announced as he stopped to take the mug of tea from his flat-mate.

Bond felt a stab of disappointment; he supposed it was inevitable that Felix would want to get a job, earn his living but he'd been hoping that he would have the Omega's company for a lot longer. But his friend was still talking and he turned his attention back to him.

"… with MI6!" 

Bond blinked with shock. "Tell me how …" Felix looked nothing like the latest employee of the British Secret Service in his baggy pants and bright socks. And especially not with a hand knitted jumper with a computer mouse with ears, whiskers and a tail that looked like a computer connection embroidered on the front.

"Two days after you left I got a call from Executive Employment Agencies, asking me to come in for an interview with Universal Exports. I was surprised as I hadn't given you a copy of my CV," he gave James a severe look, "I suppose you had to give them a copy when you told them we were sharing a flat." He shrugged, after all everything had worked out well and he did understand why Bond had had to do it. "But I was interested in getting a job so I went along the next afternoon. The interview was going well and I felt confident - then the interviewer started asking me about hacking. I'm not naïve, James, I know how the world works and having some one who could hack into the systems of business rivals would be of great commercial advantage but I wasn't going to do it - it's illegal and I didn't want to damage my working reputation and anyway it's not worth it in the long run, even if you get large bonuses. " He sipped at his tea, feeling the warmth settle him down a little. 

"I was about to say 'thanks but no thanks' when the interviewer asked me to give her a minute and left the room. When she came back she had a copy of the Official Secrets Act for me to sign. I was surprised - as you can imagine - but I signed and then I was told that I was being interviewed for a position with the British Secret Service! 

"I had an appointment with the Quartermaster this afternoon and he offered me a place on his new IT team and I accepted." It was going to be a great job and much more interesting than working for some corporation, which was what had got him into his troubles before. "He also hinted that, in not too long a time frame, I might get promotion to being his second, in charge of the computer section." The old man had admitted that he didn't know a lot about computers. "So you can relax at home and not have to try to hide what you do."

"It'll certainly make life easier," James agreed. "When do you start?"

"In a week," Felix answered. "I told them I had to go into hospital for a few days before I could start." He hid his blush in his mug - hoping James Bond, the spy, wouldn't notice.

"Hospital?" James asked, shocked. "I thought you said Dr Hudderfield said everything had healed alright?" And there was the MI6 medical as well.

Straightening his back and being as brave as he could Felix looked up. "It is. But he said he wanted me to have a heat before going back on suppressants. He said my system needed to 'reset' itself. So I've booked myself into a hospital that only treats Omegas and all the staff are Betas." He shrugged. "I know it'll be a bit uncomfortable but I don't know any Alphas." He realised what he was saying and rushed to explain. "Apart from you and I didn't know if you'd want to and I didn't know when you'd be back from your assignment."

James put down his mug and hugged his friend. "Would you like me to help you?" He liked sex and generally sought out a bed companion after a mission. 

Burying his face in James' jumper Felix nodded. "Yes, please." James smelt of gun powder and something that somehow made him think of the wind off the sea. 

James buried his nose in Felix's unruly, dark hair and smelt that familiar scent again. Now he was close enough he could tell that the Omega was going into heat; in addition to his normal scent of tea and citrusy bergamot he cold smell… "you smell like Earl Grey tea and that wonderful smell you get in a park when it rains after a dry spell." ((if anybody wants to know the name of that smell is petrichor))

"Really?" Felix smiled. "You smell like gunpowder and a sea wind."

James lifted his Omega's face from where it was half-hidden in his jumper so he could see his eyes. "Really and it's very nice." He brushed his lips over the other man's, "do you want to spend tonight with me? So we're comfortable with each other for your heat?" He hoped the other would agree. 

"I'd like that," Felix answered, heat in his face but he refused to break eye contact. 

"We need to talk about some things," James said, guiding his Omega into the main room of the flat and pushing him down onto the sofa. He would really have preferred to take the younger man to bed and make love but there things he needed to know. When they were both seated he asked, "did Stephen Merchant rape you?" He took his friend's hand in his, offering comfort. "I need to know so I don't do anything to frighten you."

Looking down, feeling ashamed but determined to be honest Felix shook his head. "I agreed." He looked up and whilst James looked surprised he didn't look angry. The Omega took a deep breath. "I had been locked in that warehouse for months and I was feeling trapped and frightened."

"Of Merchant and his cronies?" Merchant was lucky he was dead, if he hadn't been James Bond, the spy with a licence to kill, would have found him and 'terminated him with extreme prejudice'. 

"No," Felix shook his head. At least he had been spared that fear. "They treated me kindly enough. Apart from Stephen there was only one other Alpha and he was an older man, bonded for years and with a family. He noticed me - he was an Alpha after all - but he never made much of it. It helped that Stephen was his boss, too." He sighed and was pleased when James tightened his strong, calloused fingers in comfort. It was a typical Alpha gesture and the Omega in Felix accepted it with pleasure. 

"As I said I'd been kept locked up and I was starting to feel as if I would never see the sun or a tree again. The thought of spending my life locked in that place …" Felix stopped to catch his breath. "Then Stephen asked me if I would be his Omega, give him a pup. He promised to bond with me and marry me and he said that he'd buy me a house. I knew that if I agreed I'd never escape him but I was desperate so I agreed."

"But you were still in the warehouse when it was raided," Bond pointed out. "He tricked you." He was starting to wish Merchant was still alive so he could take a long time killing him. A bullet would be way too quick!

"No," despite what he had been through Felix felt he had to give Stephen credit where it was due. He was, after all as responsible as the Alpha. He'd agreed, he hadn't been forced to do anything. "Stephen was having a house renovated for us. He even took me to see it. He said it would be ready for us by the time our pup was due. He showed me the title deed - it was even in my name." He buried his face in his hands. "It was wrong of me to agree, I know. I was weak and stupid."

James gently pulled the hands down so he could see Felix's eyes and Felix could see his. "No. You were alone and frightened and in a situation you had no control over. Nothing in your life had prepared you for it, you chose the best option you had." He leant forward and kissed lips that tasted of tears. "Oh, love, don't cry." He smiled without pleasure. "Stronger men than you, men trained to deal with that kind of situation have given in."

"Spies?" Felix asked, mischief in his eyes now he had confessed and been understood.

"Spies," Bond agreed, his smile true this time. He stood up. "Do you need more tea?" The Universal Panacea for all that ever troubled a true Englishman. 

Felix shook his head and stood up. "Bed. I'll join you in a moment." He slipped away to his bedroom.

James undressed and threw back the covers on his bed. He had no false modesty about being naked, enough women had lusted after him for him to know that he had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to his body. A sound behind him made him turn and there Felix was, dressed in a light dressing gown, open to show glimpses of his slender, pale body. 

Felix stopped at the door, taking a good look at the heavily muscled, lightly tanned body of his lover. James had the longer, thicker penis of an alpha and heavier testicles for making lots of sperm and the omega felt a shiver of desire run up and down his spine and settle in his belly. What he saw only made him want to be able to claim James as his, make this handsome, kind man his alpha. He walked quickly over to the bed and lay down.

James ran his hands down the long arms of his omega; soft skin, unexpected muscles - dancer's muscles or runner's. Not heavy like his. Pale skin, unscarred, smooth. He slipped his arms around his lover's chest, feeling bone beneath the skin. He lowered his lips to lips waiting for his kiss and forgot everything but the wonder of it all.

Felix ran his hands up and down the scarred back. The honourable marks of James' dedication to Queen and Country. This man, this brave, damaged man was his now, to care for, to soothe when the memories clawed their way into his alpha's dreams, to whisper loving words of commitment. His alpha, his James, his to love. One day, one day soon. For now there was talented hands, avid lips, a strong wonderful body. It was enough, and more than enough.

"We'll need this, James," Felix said, taking the tube of lube out his dressing gown pocket and dropping it in the other man's hand.

James took the tube, noting the fact that it had been used before. The thought made him frown. He looked up, knowing he had no right to be jealous. But the omega knew him and there was a smile, a slight shake of that head of dark, wavy hair. "It's from the hospital. Some of the tests to make sure I was healed they needed to …" a nod in the direction of the tube.

He'd had those kind of checks himself. His alpha pride satisfied Bond nodded. "Sorry. I had to right to think that you might have - while I was away."

"I think you have had that right from the first," Felix stated gently but firmly. "What ever happens later."

Appreciating that Felix was not trying to push them into a relationship before it was time James nodded but part of him knew that his omega was right. They had been in a relationship since that first morning when he had gone to Bart's. Any alpha would have helped a hurt omega but he had visited, brought flowers. Felix had cried on his shoulder when the loss of his cub and the knowledge that there would probably never be another had been too much, even though he had said, when he recovered, that he had never really wanted children. He had offered his shoulder, his touch, his comfort, his friendship. One day soon he would offer love and a bonding - and he would be accepted. Not now, not yet. Soon. Soon enough.

Adrenalin still running high in his system James roused Felix, made sure he was prepared and slid into the warm, welcoming embrace of the omega's body. He needed, needed and he wanted to feel his lover coming, feel muscles tighten around him, bring him to orgasm, to ease the anger and regret. 

Felix took all of James into his body, even though he was not yet in heat he opened readily to warm fingers probing him, his body knowing what was needed. When the long length of that alpha cock slid into him he lifted his hips, wanting to feel full. A slide, pressure on his prostate and he sighed out his pleasure, feeling his body tighten and lifted higher, wanting to be filled again and again. His lover pushed deeper, withdrawing and pushing in again, making his pulse race, his breathing harsher until he came, not breathing, not thinking, just the wonderful pulse of desire flowing up his cock and out, muscles tightening around the cock pulsing warmth inside him. He fell back, muscles lax with sated desire, breathing hard and utterly delighted.

As Felix came, muscles tightening around him James felt his own orgasm pulse out, into the tight warmth of his omega's body. As he relaxed, putting most of his weight on his forearms he wondered, fleetingly, what a cub of their two would have been like. He had lost that future to his duty. But he and Felix would have a future together. And for him that would be enough. 

They slept then, waking to make love again in the dark room, lit only by the glow of street lights around forgotten curtains. They got up, feeling hungry and at ease, muscles tired but loose with pleasure. While Felix showered James ordered Chinese take away, while James showered Felix sought out a bottle of wine and set the table. When the food came they sat over it, drinking, eating and talking. Then they returned to the bed and slept to wake with the first light and make love again.

James lay with the head of his lover on his shoulder, running his hands up and down his slender back. Tanned skin against pale skin, dark hair against his blond. "In the Middle East they say that the day starts when you can tell a black thread from a white one," he said.

"Or who you're sharing your bed with," Felix countered. "Always a good thing to remember his or her name."

James laughed. "I make it a practice to always remember names." Oh, how he liked it that Felix could match him snark for snark, acidic comment for sceptical comment.

"Such a gentleman!" Felix shot back with a chuckle, he enjoyed bandying words with James. No offence taken or given. He rolled over and sat up. "I need tea and breakfast." He sniffed. "And a shower."

Now that he was having his heat at home Felix knew there were things they would need. "I need to do some shopping," he said as he got up to head for his study and his laptop.

James seemed to move from near the table to the door into the hall without actually crosssing the space in between. "You ARE NOT leaving this flat!" His tone was pure alpha.

Felix straightened, anger instead of obedience radiating from him. "You are not my alpha. You have no say in where I go and what I do." The fact that he hadn't being going to leave the flat was irrelevant. He was an omega but he was not and never would be anyone's slave. And if James didn't like that then they were never going to bond!

Bond took a deep breath. He was a man whose natural self-control had been reinforced with long and arduous training; he could undergo horrendous torture and still make jokes about 'scratching my balls' and smile with teeth blood stained from biting his lip to hold back his screams. He took a breath, relaxed.

As Felix watched the anger on James' face faded, for just a moment the alpha was still and then with a lift of his chest he relaxed, holding up his arms, palms out and flat. "I'm sorry. I had no right now or ever to order you to stay or go." That smile, the one that Felix liked, the one that was more smirk than smile lightened his face. "It's just that if you go out smelling like that you'll start a riot!" 

Felix laughed and shook his head. "I wouldn't be that stupid, James. I meant I was going to order on line." His tone implied that James, being older, didn't know about on-line ordering.

The back-chat, the smile, relaxed the alpha and he grinned back. "Mind you it might be interesting to take you shopping." And wouldn't he be proud to show off his omega to the world! "While you do that why don't I go and get us something nice for lunch?" He knew all the shops in the district; he'd run the streets in the early morning and late at night. He knew every shop and what they sold, all the back doors and alley ways. 

"Mmm," Felix agreed, moving towards the study again. "And cake, chocolate cake. With lots of cream!"

Bond smiled and nodded and went to find container to carry cream covered chocolate cake home in. He put his short overcoat on over his Aran jumper and corduroys and went out to his favourite delicatessen. The alpha in him preening itself on feeding his omega. Bond shook his head over his instincts and decided to walk - it was cold but sex always made him feel relaxed and energetic at the same time. 

The delicatessen provided him with salads and sliced meat, crusty rolls and fruit salad. The bakery had chocolate cakes with cream, vanilla cream, coffee cream, orange icing and chocolate filling. He bought enough to satisfy even Felix's sweet tooth and a couple of fruit scones for himself and walked back home his steps light and his manner that of a very satisfied alpha. 

They spent the rest of the day eating and relaxing. The DVD set on the Peninsula War was interesting and the afternoon passed. Felix leant against James, only half watching Sharpe save England from Napoleon. He could feel warmth building inside him but at the moment it was more comfortable than arousing. Soon he would be sweating and longing for James' alpha cock but for now he was clingy and relaxed. But his inner omega wanted to know more about his alpha. 

"Tell me about yourself, James," he said, when an episode had finished. He felt muscles tense under him and added quickly. "Not anything too secret. Like where you born and where did you go to school?"

James relaxed, he could tell his omega some things. "I was born in Scotland and my parents were killed in a mountaineering accident when I was twelve." He didn't want to talk about that. He hated the cold bleak house, his parents who had loved mountains more than they had loved him. He supposed it had all helped to make him the man he was. "I was expelled from Eton."

Felix sat up, brows lifting in surprise. "What did you do?"

James smiled. "I was trying to seduce one of the maids." In an all boys school it was either the female staff or another boy, after all. "She was an omega - I was too young to realise until she practically kidnapped me for her heat. I was missed and when the head master said he'd have to call in the police the boy who had seen me sneaking over to the staff quarters felt he had to tell. He wouldn't have normally, of course. The Head couldn't do anything while I was locked in with the maid but he certainly did afterwards. " That smirky smile again. "Apparently it wasn't proper for a pupil to be on intimate terms with the staff.

"Then I went to Cambridge - got a Double First in Oriental Languages. Joined the Navy 'to see the World'. I was transferred to Intelligence. I was posted to MI6 to do a joint operation where they needed my language and diving skills." Marianne Nicholson had been the first of his women to die whilst he was spying for Her Majesty. "I decided I liked working for MI6 so I applied for a permanent transfer. I'm still, officially, Commander Bond RN." He didn't like thinking about his past. "Tell me about you."

"I was born in Clifton, a suburb of Bristol, and attended Clifton School. My father was a lawyer and my mother was a dressmaker and milliner. I had a happy childhood." Something Bond hadn't - he could tell that from the tone of the other man's voice, his sparse information. "And then to university.

"I've been interested in computers since my teens. Enjoyed breaking into supposedly secure systems and leaving messages." He'd been careful who he hacked; he'd steered clear of the Secret Service and the CIA. He'd heard the scary stories about those that didn't. "So I studied Engineering and Computer Science. At University College, London." He loved London and didn't want to live or study anywhere else. He hadn't been born within the sound of the bells of Saint Mary-le-Bow but he always thought of himself as a Londoner. "I wanted to work on developing prosthetic limbs but there just weren't any jobs - even for some one as good at engineering small things as I was unless I wanted to go overseas." He looked away and then back. "I have a fear of flying." And saw nothing but kindness where in so many others he'd seen scorn. "So I used my computer skills instead. I got a good job with Atlas Corp. got promotions." A shrug for past mistakes. "You know the rest."

James, who had had the standard lessons on alpha/omega 'biology' was keeping track of the symptoms of his omega's oncoming heat and he was not surprised when Felix, asked what he wanted for dinner, refused food and wanted only tea. He had eaten well, filled up his system with calories and now it was time for his body to prepare itself for mating. 

At eight o'clock Felix bent down to kiss James. "I'm off to bed." He would sleep tonight to be ready for three days of almost constant activity. 

"If you want to cuddle up we can," James offered knowing there would be no sex tonight - unfortunately. Still, he'd have his fill and more soon.

"I'd like that." It would comfort his inner omega to have his alpha guarding him. Felix went to prepare for bed and slipped into the bed that smelt of him and James. He snuggled his face into a pillow, pulled blankets up to his chin and fell into a deep dreamless sleep. He barely stirred when James joined him and didn't wake until the next morning. 

James woke early as usual and slipped out of bed to shower and shave. Just after James heard Felix get up and use the toilet and then the shower. The male omega reproductive system used a sphincter to close off their digestive system during heat so that no semen would be wasted and when that happened a full stomach would be uncomfortable. The groceries were delivered by a beta at ten o'clock while Felix was showering and filled the tops of the bed side cabinets with bottles of water and sports drinks. 

When Felix entered the kitchen a hot cup of Earl Grey was waiting for him and he took a long sip and sighed with pleasure. He was wearing only the bottoms of a pair of summer pyjamas, too hot wear anything else as his body prepared itself.

Later that afternoon as Felix lay with his head in his alpha's lap while James' finger combed gently through his hear he felt slickness on his inner thighs and lust flair in his loins. He stood up and held out his hand to his alpha. "It's time." James' eyes were dark with lust, the icy blue a thin ring around the black.

A heat was no time for modesty and Felix lay down on his belly, lifting his hips as James undressed and lay down next to him on the bed. Needing his alpha's cock he lifted his hips, demanding to be filled.

Aroused, James knelt behind his omega and slid into the warm, slickness ready for him. Felix came quickly, thin semen spurting from his slender omega cock. James didn't come, that was for later; now he needed to rouse his lover until Felix was ready to take his knot. He slid his hands around his omega's penis and brought him to orgasm again.

Felix came, pleasure and need peaking and fading away only a little. "Deeper, James, deeper." He moved his legs further apart, making room for James to fill him completely.

James pushed deeper. "I'm going to fill you with my knot, little one, until you come and come." In the throes of heat even the most urbane alpha regressed to his primitive roots. He pushed again, deeper and then he came, filling his omega with his semen.

Every thrust of James's big alpha cock pressed against his prostate and Felix came again and again until all he could feel was pleasure overwhelming his mind until there was nothing else but pleasure. One last pulse and he could feel warmth filling his womb and he cried out, wordless and lost in the physicality of his body. 

There was a roaring in James' ears and mind as orgasms rippled through him, urging him deeper and deeper into the body of his lover. Finally he came down from the heights, still locked inside the body of his omega. "You alright, love?"

Felix nodded, "wonderful thanks." He moved a little, liking the way James' cock moved a little deep within, locked in place by the knot that stretched him wide with pleasure. He yawned, his body needing to rest for a while.

"Good." James kissed a bony shoulder and then kissed the slender neck, pressing his lips to the place where he would bite to bond them. He felt the omega shiver with anticipation and pleasure but moved away. "Sleep now. More later."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

When James woke he knew that the heat was over, Felix was cool again as he lay alongside him. James kissed his omega's hair, his body sated, his muscles aching pleasantly. He lay quietly, enjoying the afterglow of three days of mind-numbing sex until Felix stirred. 

"You go and shower," James said, "I'll clean up here."

Felix nodded and slid from the bed, his knees weak from too much great sex. He stayed long in the shower, enjoying the simple pleasure of feeling clean again. He didn't bother to wrap a towel around his hips as he went to dress in a pair of warm old fashioned stripped pyjamas and his long winter dressing gown. He slipped on warm socks and his silly cat slippers. By the time he was dressed James was in the shower and he headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. 

They spent the rest of the day on the sofa, Felix resting his head on James' lap while his alpha read and he relaxed, his body still thrumming with remembered pleasure. Going through his heat alone in the hospital, even with the help of tranquillisers, would have been horrible but instead he was sated and relaxed. He considered himself one very luck omega. 

By early evening James was hungry for a proper meal. "Why don't we go out for dinner? Somewhere posh to celebrate." He wanted to show off his handsome, thoroughly fucked omega. 

"You'll start a riot," Felix stated, looking up at his handsome alpha and echoing James' comment from before his heat. "You look way too smug."

James laughed. "Let's go and start one together." 

In the end they stayed in and ordered take away. When they had finished eating Felix suggested watching more of 'Sharpe' but James shook his head, "we need to talk before we report in."

Frowning a little Felix sat up, wondering what they needed to talk about. Now that he knew about MI6 and what James did there should be no hurdles in the way of their continued relationship. 

Taking a deep breath James began. "I'm one of MI6's senior agents, I go after the big sharks, the dangerous men." He wanted his omega to realise how dangerous his job was, to prepare him for possible bad news, to give him the choice of ending their relationship now before they got too deep. 

Felix nodded, his smile a little twisted. "I know, James. M said that if I wanted to continue living with you I needed to know what could happen," he shrugged. "I decided that I would take what time we had and be glad we had it."

Relieved James went on, "sometimes the quickest and best way to get information I need is if I seduce a woman. I want to ask you if you want me to stop doing that." If they bonded then he would have to be true to his bond mate so he wanted him to have that option from the beginning. 

Felix frowned. "Would you have told me if I hadn't been cleared for you to tell me?"

"I don't know," Bond lied. Of course he did - he would have had to walk away from his omega. He would have had no choice.

Knowing Bond well by now Felix saw the lie and accepted it. He had a question. "You said you sometimes seduce women? Not men?" 

James shook his head. "For one the kind of men I am looking for never have omegas, having an omega, even if they are not your bond mate makes you vulnerable. They have mistresses who are betas. Secondly, most of them are betas themselves so they aren't going to have an alpha lover who is stronger than them. And when it comes to betas and the occasional alpha I only like women. It's only my alpha instincts that accepts omegas as omegas and doesn't worry if they are male or female." 

Not disappointing Bond Felix took his hand and tightened his long slender fingers around Bond's calloused squarer hands. "If it means staying alive then I would rather have you unfaithful than dead."

"It's never making love," James kissed lips that softened and clung to his. "It's just sex, however much I enjoy it. Making love is just for you and me."

"Oh, James!" Felix hugged his lover, the man he loved. He had no doubt at all now. Now was not the right time to say so - he could wait until it was. 

Delighted, knowing his heart was given to this man, this omega, James hugged back, burying his face in soft dark hair that smelt of herbal shampoo and Earl Grey tea. 

 

Bond pulled up in front of the MI6 building at Vauxhall Cross and turned off the ignition. "Okay. Keep your hands where they can be seen and have your temporary ID out. Do exactly what you're told and you should be okay." It just wouldn't do for the new computer geek to get killed by Security on his first day at work.

Felix swallowed nervously and nodded. He took the ID card that the Quartermaster had given him out of his wallet and slipped it into the right hand pocket of his parka. He smiled at James, who smiled back encouragingly, and slid out of the Aston Martin and walked with as confident a stride as he could up to the automatic doors into the building's foyer. He stopped just inside to take out his ID and hold it up, firmly clasping the strap of his courier bag with his left hand. Then he walked across the marble floor towards the concierge's desk. 

After that it was something of an anti-climax to be greeted with a smile and a pleasant request to wait while Q was summoned. 

Felix spent the rest of the morning in a haze of pleasure and anticipation. He was to spend a fortnight getting to know about Q Branch and then take over the IT section. His first priority would be to work out what hardware would be needed and work out a budget request and stand by to convince the bean counters that, yes, he really did need all that many computers and, no, just going to the Apple shop would not do. Then he would need to find and hire staff. There were two or three computer literate people already working with Major Boothroyd and they would form the basis for future hiring. He liked the old soldier cum engineer and felt that, sharp temper or not, Q did care about the men and women who used his gadgets. 

"What are you doing here, 007?" Felix heard Boothroyd's sharp tone and looked around to see his lover. "I haven't got any toys for you to play with and M hasn't told me you need outfitting for a mission." 

"You disappoint me, Q," Bond said, smiling rather fondly at the old man - who sighed, smiled and waited. Bond never came down here without wanting to cause trouble. Bond looked around for Felix and smiled when he saw him. "I just came to take a friend out for lunch. That is if you allow your staff a lunch break?"

The Quartermaster, who had been briefed on the Felix/James situation smiled and said, "Oh, go away Bond and take him with you! He's too skinny and needs feeding." 

007 was on a mission when he heard the news about the explosion at Vauxhall Cross. He'd been accepted by the locals as a man who could keep a steady hand even when drunk and had managed to convince the local crime lord's mistress that he wanted to bed her. He'd left her in the shack he was living in, sprawled in a drugged stupor in his bed, and headed out to the bar on the beach where Davro's men drank and gambled. He had the information he wanted now all he had to do to get close enough to Davro to kill him was go on the latest smuggling mission. He'd been invited to help when he'd killed a key member of the gang and casually and seemingly drunk mentioned his expertise in explosives. He'd been hired to fill in the vacancy and was set to go along tonight. He was bored with the job and sick of their silly drinking games. If he was slower than a scorpion he shouldn't be a double 0! 

The television was running behind the bar and he had turned just as the explosion was replayed. The commentary wasn't in English but Bond recognised the building he had worked in for so long. He listened, then, to the report about the damage to MI6 headquarters and it took all his considerable self-control to stop him getting up and running out of the bar and back to his temporary home to collect his secreted passport and money and getting on the first aeroplane back to England - and Felix. His lover could be lying under a pile of rubble calling for him and he was stuck here on some God-forsaken beach drinking too much and playing silly games with other drunken men. 

Somebody's mobile phone rang and the gang was leaving the bar and Bond went along with them. Tonight they would sleep in barracks rather than with their various women and tonight Bond would use his licence to kill and - and then he could go home and hold Felix close. He refused to think that his love had not survived the explosion. If he did he would not be able to complete his mission. 

It was too easy to slip a knife between Davro's ribs and sneak away into the night. As he walked quickly back into his shack to collect his papers he idly wondered how the gang boss had managed to live as long as he did without any personal bodyguard but it had made his job easier. He smiled as he remembered what he had done after stabbing Davro; he had returned to the communal sleeping area and left the knife he had used right next to the bunk where the smartest of the gang was sleeping. The gang had probably never heard of William Shakespeare but Bond had seen The Scottish Play enough times to remember how Macbeth had made King Duncan's bodyguards seem to be the monarch's assassins, deflecting any suspicion from himself. 

Davro might keep the men celibate for the night but he had not attempted to keep them sober and as Bond left the barracks the only noises were the snores of drunken men. Shaking his head 007 decided that Davro was so stupid he hadn't deserved to live any longer; the knife left behind would destabilise the gang and keep it out of trouble until a new chief fought his way to the top. 

The smell of smoke still hung around the area of Vauxhall Cross as Bond finally made his way into the underground bunkers where Q Branch had retreated. He looked around for Felix, not seeing him and feeling a cold shiver down his back and a strange soreness in his throat and then there he was, surrounded by a crowd, answering questions as he walked towards where Bond was standing, watching with what he would ever deny were tears in his eyes.

Then Felix looked up and he stopped in the middle of what-ever he was saying, his face broke out into a smile and he walked quickly, handing the laptop he was carrying unthinkingly to some one who took it before it fell to the floor. "James!" and then he was running and James was holding out his arms and they hugged each other and held on to each other and never wanted to ever let go. Not ever again.

Bond finally managed to lift his face from dark hair that clung to the bristles on his face; who thought of shaving when returning home to a beloved who might be dead or injured? "I was so worried, love," he murmured, still holding on tight.

"I know," Felix whispered. "But I couldn't contact you - our systems are compromised …" he had wanted to ring that bar with the drinking games and the woman and the scorpions to re-assure his alpha, his love, to say he was shocked and bruised, 'shaken but not stirred' but to do so would have compromised 007 and his mission, endangered James's life and he had been forced to remain silent, keep calm and carry on working and wait … Until his James was back home, with him, in his arms. Safe.

And James Bond knew that Felix Meeting had chosen duty over love, as he had. "I'm back home, you had a job to do, just as I did." 

The re-union could not last long, there were people waiting for answers, for solutions. It finally registered that the people in the bunker with their pale, drawn faces were looking to his lover for answers and James looked into tired green eyes and raised a brow in question, "Felix?" 

Felix smiled, looking young and shy but clearly pleased with himself as well. Then sadness clouded his eyes again. "I'm sorry, James, but Q died in the explosion. There was no one else qualified to sort out the mess …"

Before Bond could quite grasp the implications of what he had just heard M was there, her sharp grey eyes looking her best and most troublesome agent up and down and perhaps softening just a little. She looked tired, her linen suit rumpled, her voice crisp still but grating a little as if she had had too little sleep and too many orders to give. "Welcome back, 007. I need Q so you will have to wait."

Bond smiled."Q?" 

Q nodded, "But you can still call me Felix," he leant closer again, whispering in a delightfully prominent ear. "In private."

A grin answered that sally. It was wonderful to be back to their usual quips and snarks. "Congratulations Quartermaster. Now, is there anything I can do for you?'

Q longed to answer 'yes and take me home' but instead he nodded and summoned a minion with a gesture that was already commanding. "Help Johnson with the armoury."

Saluting smartly Bond said, "aye, aye, Quartermaster."


End file.
